Colts

"You say it with such disdain!"
"Yeah..." I say back laughing, because I'm terrible at small talk.

He instructs me to lift my leg onto Grady's shoulder. Oh yeah, I remember that, I think as soon as I do it. He adjusts the worn leather to the right height. My foot does feel more in control now. He walks back to his colt, pulling with all his might on the reins, but the stubborn thing won't move.

"See would you rather do this? Pushing colts around and mucking out stalls?" I laugh again. Later I thought about how I should of said "hell yes" and "how did you get this gig?". He doesn't remind me of a horse man. He's skinny, maybe 5'8, doesn't look strong enough to ride in a certain way, but riding has nothing to do with size. Maybe he just looks small cause his head is too big, maybe his head looks too big because he's got a full dark beard. His sun burned skin makes his blue eyes ridiculously intense, and there's a cigarette tucked behind his ear under his cowboy hat, I never saw him light it.