Here’s some fiction about people riding horses. Literally, not in a euphemism way. Should I make that sound more exciting? Here’s some fiction about people riding horses!
Again, not in a dirty way.
This is a scene I didn’t end up using from One Little Change. I took out anything other than vague references to the plot, so this isn’t spoilery and you also don’t need to know anything about the characters.
Enjoy! (Or don’t, you do you.)
This was the awkwardest experience ever. Happening right now. Around me. Under me. That sounded weird. I was on a horse. It was awkward.
Maybe it wasn’t that weird… it was just also really weird.
“Slow down,” I suggested to Lydia while tightening my arms around her waist.
“You are such a baby.” Swore she sped up while she said that.
“There’s a branch up ahead!” I warned.
“Stop backseat horse riding!”
We were at the camp where Alicia worked, picking up my little sister Lily. Camp was over for her group, but there were still counselors around and they’d soon be getting ready for the next batch of kids. No one seemed to care or question us when we went to the stables and checked out the horses, all the employees too excited for the downtime between cycles, so I followed Lily and Alicia’s leads.
Lily decided we were going to go riding, which I didn’t really know how to do, but she seemed comfortable getting the horses ready.
While Ryan and I patching things up was good for my heart and mind and soul and everything, maybe it was good for my body too. The Millers didn’t even have horses yet, and Ryan and I were in no way married, but my little sister Lily was acting like their imaginary horses were as good as hers.
Our family didn’t have a barn of our own, and the ranch I worked on had different livestock, so I’d never ridden. Maybe a few times at the fair when I was a kid and then horses seemed girly. Why? Yeah, girls liked horses. Sometimes to a scary degree. But the animals were giant and they had strength and what about them was girly, and even if it was, what about that was girly in a bad way?
I told the girls they could ride and I would just wait for them, maybe go back to my car. And now somehow I was behind Lydia on a horse.
The horse Lily rode had a chestnut coat, was obviously named Chestnut, and was fast, as she charged ahead and lost us pretty much immediately on the path.
Alicia’s tan horse, Blondie, they didn’t dig too hard for names, looked like it had the ability to catch up or at least get close to Lily’s horse even though it moved at a slower pace to accommodate me and my steed.
My horse was named Button and had a white coat with grey spots. No idea if its coat was always like that or that just happened when a horse was, like, 90 years old. If he tried to go as fast as Chestnut, he would probably die.
I liked Button. He was an old guy that was just doing his best.
While I probably wasn’t in any danger, I clung onto Lydia for dear life.
“Just be careful,” I told or reminded her.
“Stop telling me what to do.”
“I will if you be careful.”
“I’ve done this before.”
Yeah and so had Button, 900 times, and I think he’s had enough. It’s a big job carrying two people.