Sorry, you must be a member of this group to do that.
It has me audibly gasping and pressing a hand against my chest to push away the ball of tension building there. Rhett is poetry in motion. He doesn’t fight the bull, it’s like he becomes an extension of it. One hand up high, body swaying naturally, never losing balance. I check the clock, and somehow this ride feels much longer. It feels like he’s going to get killed before the buzzer sounds.
