A tepid breeze jostled sagebrush along the secondary highway Mack took. Onlookers waved from their properties.
“Where ya goin’, son?” asked Jed, a retired farmer.
“Grocery store,” quipped the sunlit cowboy.
He entered the village and parked, distanced from other vehicles.
“Got yourself a beauty!” someone yelled.
Mack laughed, carrying boughten goods across the parking lot. He untied rope from a post, mounted his buffalo.
Rode back home into the setting sun, like a star in a western movie.