Friday Fictioneers

untitledff

lamps

He stood in the kitchen as if he’d never been there before, in this tiny house purchased with the last of his bull-riding money.

She begged him to quit, afraid one day the sport would destroy him. That she’d wake up one morning, missing the sound of his boots on the wooden floor.

He was a cowboy, never happier than settling on the back of Bushwacher, Little Yellow Jacket or Bodacious, knowing he was up against one of the best bulls in the circuit. If he won here, no telling where his career might go. Sweat beading the rim of his hat, he shifted his weight. Nodded

Just stay on, he told himself in the second before his world turned upside down. Just stay on.

Just….

 

 

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s