beretta-1984

September 10, 2024

Mountain air in our lungs, a hearty sausage-and-home-fries, fire cooked meal inside us both. A last wipe of oil along our bolt action Berettas — the two big bores we’ve entrusted for our try at the trophy racks.

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Thought:

“No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found.”

Samuel Beckett

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