My Us Se Achha Chodna Chahta Hu Teri Chooth...

. then the Crow and Pawnee allied with the soldiers ... and they gave presents; guns and all the ammunition the indian scouts could use.The constant warfare wore us down. Frosty mornings hurt my bones and the constant winter glare bothered my eyes. My wives were sick one winter and never woke up. My children were captured or killed in the continual wars.I got old. When did that happen? The war path lost it’s charm and excitement. When I had killed that southern officer ... in a fair fight ... it was reported that I had shot from ambush and the Army had been hunting me for twenty years.I stayed alive for life itself.Then ... it was a good day to die ... I shut down.I rode my favorite pony out to a place I remembered when I was young and strong. The few cottonwood trees were still growing around the seep. I built a bier in the tree and climbed on. Through the leaves I watched the clouds as they floated by.An eagle circled ever higher on the breeze. Then there were two. They circled each. His gaze followed her slow movement toward the piano. She wore a long, seafoam green formal gown that trailed lightly on the floor as she walked. The top of her gown bared her soft shoulders and the slight dip in the front hinted at her cleavage. Her arms were covered from above her elbow to her fingertips by long white gloves. When she reached the piano, she turned and looked at him. He applauded as she curtsied and pulled her gown up to seat herself.He fell silent as she pulled herself up to the piano and took a deep breath. He felt himself grow more excited as she breathed.He closed his eyes as she began to play and felt the passion in her music. The soft soaring music reminded him of her soft skin that he longed to caress. He imagined them dancing closely to the music. Her soft hand in his, the feel of her back on his hand, the gentle brushing of her thigh on his, her soft breath in his ear.The first number ended and he applauded. She stood and curtsied again, bowing slightly. The.
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