 |
| Chico by Jesus Correa |
horse glue
How was I going to do
this. How was I going to bring myself to murder her horse. She loved
that horse, her and her horse had grown up together, they were like
inter-species siblings, and I couldn’t imagine them not being
together. They longed for one another, her and her horse, and when
she wasn’t near the horse she was thinking about that horse,
thinking about riding her horse, and grooming her horse, talking to
and feeding her horse; and I liked to think that that horse thought
about her too, when she was gone away to school, when she got her
first job at the Dairy Queen, when she was out on her first date; I
liked to think that that horse was sitting there in that stable,
missing her as much as I know she missed him.
How was I going to do
this? Slit it’s throat, maybe a shotgun, poison? How do you kill a
loved one, how do you bring yourself to do what must be done, to do
the right thing, knowing it will hurt someone you love? I needed a
drink, I needed to just be out of my head a little.
I went in the house, my
wife sitting there at the table, knitting a scarf for the young whore
who had just moved in the house up the road a bit, humming a Slayer
song under her breath, smelling like an old whore herself.
“Ma, are you sure we
have to kill the poor horse, are you really sure that’s necessary?”
I asked before raising the cup of bourbon I had just poured to my
face, the part of my face with the hole in it, where words and spit
came out, where bourbon and vagina juice went in.
“We got to do it Pa,
sorry, it’s our only choice, unless you really feel like going to
the store and buying some glue. You know we need the glue Pa, you
know we do.”
She was right, we did
need the glue, for the Popsicle house we were building, and I just
didn’t have it in me to drive all the way to the store to buy a
whole bottle of glue; no, we had to kill that horse, and quick,
before we didn’t feel like making a Popsicle house no more. I got
out my shotgun and took another drink of that fire water, and headed
out to the barn to kill that horse, to make the glue that we needed
to make that Popsicle house that we had been talking about making
since yesterday.
-Jesus Correa
 |
| Chico 2. I have to find the perfect place for Chico now at my apartment, among things that make me happy. |
No comments:
Post a Comment