Do you want to canter?
It had been a great riding lesson so far.
Eddie neither bit1 me nor showered my shoes with his torrential piss.
I had not yet fallen off.
I sat there frozen. Silence from the fool. My guts felt like what Eddie had just released. They were green and mushy and kinda brown and broken up and rough and steaming. My guts were a big steaming pile of horseshit dancing with parasites.
Do you want to canter?
Megan asked again.
My stomach parasites started a conga line.
Ok. Being quiet won’t help.
But I knew what I WANTED to say. I WANTED to say, oh no hell no shit no fuck no no no no nyet ni and non.
Then I opened my mouth.
Sure, I squeaked.
My guts started shouting at me
WTF did you just say?
I was quite clear in what I wanted.
My mouth and brain somehow disconnected.
My head began to float into the clouds. My nerves all froze.
As for my guts? I’m not sure what happened to them. 2
This is nothing new for me.
Every time I’ve done something difficult or risky, before I do it, my first ans…
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