Tequila Snakerise

Tequila Snakerise

The sun was beating down as he pulled his truck into a siding outside Snakeville.

She climbed aboard and poured herself a glass of Tequila, laughing as her long legs rose in the cabin, energising his dull, ‘On the road ’, thoughts.

She sang in a Mexican mode, her wild hair braided and drank slowly.
“ Where you going?” he said
“ Wherever the going’s going . she replied "I am the wind, I follow my heart.. ”.
“ Right ” he said “ I’m headed south cross the border. ”
“ Fine by me. ”

He shook his head and looked thoughtful as her voice rose and fell over his confusion
“ You fuck with me ”
she said throwing her knickers on the floor. He looked in the mirror, on the floor, anywhere but at her.
“ Company rules ” he said “ and besides I’m still a relationship ”.
“ Still ” she said “ that doesn’t sound very positive .”

He started up the wagon
“ you have no place to be? ”
“ I told you i am the wind but you can buy me a meal at the next stop off. ”

He cranked the gear not knowing what he was going to do and rolled by some serious desert. She caressed her breasts and he kept his eye on the road.
“ I never met a saint before ” she said laughing at him.
“ I’m no saint ” he said “ but I keep my eye on the wheel and abide by the rules ” .

They crawled up snake canyon and the sun beat down.
“ We’ll soon be by the waterside, we can get rested and eat ”
“ Cool ” she said.

They hadn’t stopped long when she jumped in the pool and swam a couple of lengths.
“ Come on in ” she said “ this is Eagle Lake where the Tequila flows ”.

He remained in the cabin watching her bronzed body undulating in the water.
“ Do you like my ass Mr Saint .”

He didn't reply but continued watching. They ate in a little hut and took a room for the night and after the tequila bottle was empty, he rode the wind like a hurricane and she murmured his name endlessly.

With sunrise, they showered like fallen saints and started the wagon. She laughed
“ I came like the wind and blew the dust out of your hair what will you do when you get back home? ”.

He looked at the wheel and said
“ most likely feel guilty ”.
“ The wind never feels guilt, it just follows the path of least resistance. ”

And with that she drifted out of the wagon like a half forgotten song. He shook his head and wondered.

It felt like he’d been some involuntary character in a random story on some dude’s blog.. and maybe he was….!
Text and photo montage by Trev Teasdel