Sunday, May 17, 2009

The Fire Pony by Rodman Philbrick


I make like I'm not nervous, but it's a fib, really, because my stomach is all clenched up and my face hurts from pretending to smile.

That sets him off and the next thing you know -- wham! -- a hoof smashes the gate about head high -- and there's Showdown, with his black eyes blazing like crazy marbles and his nostrils flaring like his tail's on fire.

Joe isn't talking to me, he's talking to himself the way he doees, scuffling around the bunkhouse and running his fingers through his hair and looking like something is about to jump out of a corner and go for him, he's that spooked.You can feel the heat licking at us, it makes my face warm and my eyes hot, and the sparks rise up like lightning bugs, swirling and dancing in the air.

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