Summer They Began to Ride Me

After the fire, they let me live where they keep the horses. I was so excited at first! I had never seen horses before, but there weren’t any horses. Just the hay they had been chewing on. I also chewed on the hay. The walls of the stall were bright yellow. I pressed my face against them. I was the new horse, I thought.

There were many other stalls, but no horses in them.

I would have to be everybody’s animal, I knew.

I picked up a turd like a hunk of cigar and held it in front of my face.

I had already embraced this lifestyle. There was no use in forming new opinions of it now. There were women up at the house sewing horse-clothes for me. A little saddle, something special that a child could fit in comfortably.

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Timmy Reed
Writer
Age 32
Baltimore, Maryland, United States of America

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