I don’t remember the name. My mother asked me to help her clean out the house of a deceased friends some fair distance away so we had to hotel for the night.

The door would not lock. We shoved a desk in front of it.

I then spent the entire night on a rock hard bed next to my mother slowly melting from the heat, staring at the ribs of the ceiling as though I was inside the great whale before passing out. I woke up slick with sweat and vomitous. The table was fine though. Held the door shut.

Guy had already found a new woman to move in and wanted his dead wife’s stuff gone. Miserable trip.

From my understanding of horses, they don’t think they just fucking R U N. It’s all they know how to do.

Not sure how trained horses act. Probably more D I R E C T E D R U N.