Bull Rider
Tuesday, May 26th, 2009
She climbed on the bull in mixed lighting and rode it waving an arm free in the air. I watched her balance herself with that arm and turn her hand with the same grace that hands have when they are steepled for praying. This happened early in the night when the fresh poured beer was spreading a liquor smell through the bar. An indoor dusk settled on the tables and stools as the light faded from the courtyard. The people were still finding their way around the pen to watch the patrons ride, to forget themselves – to be out, drinking and maybe take their own shot at the bull. (more…)
