The Devil Horse Short Story

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Devil Horse Cherokee frisked impatiently as I finished adjusting the saddle and moved to put on her bridle. Her fuzzy winter coat was finally shedding to reveal the sleek white fur of a thoroughbred mare in her prime. If anyone had doubted Cherokee’s purebred lineage, her attitude would’ve soon proved them wrong. She had all the fiery passion for racing that I could imagine that famous race horse Seabiscuit did. When Cherokee got it in her mind that she wanted to run, it took all the meager horsemanship skills I possessed to keep her in check. I carefully slipped the bridle over Cherokee’s head and put the bit into her mouth. As I watched her teeth and lips close around that bar of metal with a smack, a memory of a time long…show more content…
Jim the horse, or as I was fond of calling him: Jim-the-meanest-horse-in-all-of-Utah-or-maybe-even-the-world. He had trapped us in the corner of the barn, and despite all our hopes that he hadn’t noticed us, he was heading straight in our direction. My breathing intensified with each step the huge red horse took. Dried hay and leaves crunched under his hooves with a sound like cracking bones. Bekah stood beside me, her eyes open wide with fright, and Russell was moaning to himself on the other side of her. Jim stopped with his head just inches away from the three of ours. I stared up at his long face in horror. His eyes held a wild, half crazy light in them, and for a moment I was certain his ears turned into devil horns. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Jim’s head stretched toward us until it was directly above Bekah’s long blonde hair. Bekah stood pinned against the wall, every inch of her body shaking, as a bit of horse drool dripped onto the top of her head. Jim sniffed Bekah’s hair for a moment and started nibbling at it, his lips making loud smacking
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