Eyes on the Prize

“Tellin’ ya, Kid, we’re strayin’ too far from the Ranch. First bouncin’ through Fandango’s OWC… now where we at?”

“We cain’t give up, Pal. We gotta find Frankie’s missin’ glass eye. Mebbe the folks over here at Friday Fictioneers has seen it.”

“Kin ya see me rollin’ ma eyes? I jist wanna go home. On the range. Where the buckaroos play. Look, Kid, we’re the only ones ridin’ hosses. This place ain’t fer us.”

PHOTO PROMPT © Ceayr          Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

“Then why’s there a waterin’ trough? Let’s lead the hosses ta water, set an’ think.”

“Kid, look! Frankie’s eye’s in the trough!”

“Things is lookin’ up.”

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“Okay, got it, so now kin we head back ta Carrot Ranch, git this eyeball back ta Frankie, an’ jist git back ta our normal routines, chores an’ sech?”
“You betcha, Pal, we’ll even take a shortcut, go by way of Crimson’s Creative Challenge.”

“Kid, what’s Frankie’s eye color, cuz somethin’ ‘bout this here eyeball don’t look right.”

“Oh, yeah, the eye color a this ocular prosthetic seems a shade off.”

“Oh shift, dang thing slipped outta ma hand, bounced inta thet concrete crevice.”

“Dang, it’s sure gonna be hard lookin’ Frankie in the eye an’ ‘splainin’ what happened.”

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“Well Pal, back at the Ranch, finally. Cain’t believe we went all that way, keepin’ an eye out fer Frankie’s missin’ eye then lettin’ it roll down the drain.”

“I cain’t believe yer gonna make me be the one ta tell her. There she is now, saddlin’ up Burt. It’s thet dang fickle filly Clarice what caused all this ruckus in the first place, dang hoss walks like a four-legged pogo stick.”

“Frankie. You got yer glass eye in. Thought it was lost somewheres.”

“Looks like I found it. Where you two been? You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

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