Bronc riding season was just about out as winter rolled around, and True was at his worst. The best he placed was fourth. Barely made enough money to cover gas for a couple of weeks. He can't keep leaching off his parents, not while his Pa is nagging about the Marines.

He's only gotten 3 rides in today before he started to feel the effects. Colors and lights brightening. Vision blurring and spinning. A sharp ringing in his ears that wouldn't go away. He lowers himself against the gate of his horse, Dude's, stall, sitting in the dirt, clutching his head. He roots through his pockets, pulling out a bottle of pills, taking a handful.