EIGHT SECONDS
As I put my hand on the handle to open the gate, I gave Art one more excited look. He kept his eyes fixed on the bull’s head between his legs, glancing at one horn and then the other.
“Ready?” I said.
The bull wiggled and shivered. Art clenched his teeth.
“Ready?” I said again.
Barely audible response.
“Ready?”
“Eh, no actually,” said Art. “Get me the hell out of here.”
“Go!” I threw the handle and off they went.
Art’s no longer talking to me, but he’ll come around. He’s pretty proud of that new belt buckle.
That's great flash fiction! Well done!
ReplyDeleteThat's great flash fiction! Well done!
ReplyDelete