"Your mission should you decide to accept it ... "
"I'll look into it."
Badlands, South Dakota ...
The Survival spirit is a vital quality here in the Badlands. Some gossipy neighbor has hired Operations for surveillance of a woman she accuses of being a psychic fraud.
Rainy Cain packs her .38, a canteen of water, and a binocular so powerful, she can see the tool box back in Cordoba, Spain!
She rides her Enduro motorcycle dirt bike with heavy-cleated tires.
A band of coyotes gives her a song of red-canyon dirt. She is outrunning the Badland badasses ... kicking up a dust devil. She's fucking free-wheeling on the buffalo trail, smashing buffalo chips into baby powder.
She doesn't have to wait for a busload of tourists to pay for their two or three postcards. Her surveillance video camera is attached to her handlebars on a tripod. And it's rolling tape, instant postcards. Catching all of the Black Hills and Custer's ghosts, Badland badasses!
Rainy Cain ditches her dirt bike in an arroyo. She climbs up a steep-sided, picturesque hill of the bloody past. She takes a swig of water from the canteen. Her lips are dry and leathery, in bad need of Operations.
She raises the binoculars to her eyes and sees the aviary. When she approaches the structure, she takes out a rope ladder and catapults one end of it upon the roof where the metal claws dig in so she can climb up. She bellys down on the hot damn shingles and looks through the skylight down into the aviary.
The owl psychic is masturbating with an owl's talon.
Red owls are perched above her. Now Rainy Cain knows the difference between a fraudulent psychic and a Badlands female shaman practicing owl medicine.
Rainy Cain watches her blow through a bubbling stick to mix an elixir she has in a glass bottle. The woman pours it over her cunt, then scratches and scores her genitalia with the owl's talon purifying whatever need be.
Rainy Cain climbs down off the roof and reaches for her cell.
"Nothing here, Operations ... I'm coming in ... can I bring you an owl feather?"
Copyright Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist
Share
Print
Save