Shoo

       “Come on, shoo, go on,” she coaxed.

       The horse’s ears twitched, and he looked away from
her, not moving. She sat back down on the cart seat and waited. She wanted to
laugh. Here she was stuck in the road because of a horse, something that would
never happen in New York. It would have never been a horse that delayed her
getting someplace. She figured that surely the horse would get bored or hot or
both and wander back to where it came from at some point, freeing up the road. Just
then, it lifted its tail and pooped, big round plops of green poop forming a
pile in the road.

      “Nice,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “Out of all
the open space around us, do it in the road.”




A Horse Named Joe--Chick lit--entertaining Bahamian adventure           On Amazon