I wore the wrong shoes for the million dollar horses who watched as the man gave the drugged one new shoes; its proud head hung. Hunched over, hoof hard on his thigh, leg under his arm, trapped, a headlock. Flies circled in the lowering sunlight.
Long after, fake Dave would make the touchdown sign with a mongoloid smile in between karate kicks and microphone phallus thrusting. One out of the three put his hidden hands on my hips, riding along with their swaying. Marijuana smoke clouds. He undid my bra and I elbowed him. He looked at me like, “What?”
Later, he stole a golf cart.
xTx is a dirty girl. She has a book forthcoming with nonpress.
Archived at http://girlswithinsurance.com/index.php/prose/micro/84-xtx-0909-park
