At the fair Siobhan wanted to ride a massive grey green steed. She wasn’t allowed but she climbed the huge beast anyway and took its reins, and she took it for a pounding, blistering race around the track while the manager complained.
Read moreI stood by the side of the track and took pictures of her while an older man in a light brown cowboy hat and rancher clothing stood next to me. The man had his arms draped over two women, one of whom he’d just met, a younger blonde woman with long wavy blonde hair, the other, either his wife or mistress, an older plump woman with a maroon wool cardigan, tied back black hair, a sharp nose and tattoos on her cheeks in the style of a Native American.
Each time Siobhan came round to our side of the track I snapped a picture. But when I went to press the shutter, I missed the shot. One photo was of the horse’s chest, and I missed Siobhan entirely. In the photo the sinews of the horse’s grey green muscle stood out because of the fury of its race and the image looked good despite Siobhan not being in it. The next photo was blurry due to the horse’s speed. Only in the last photo did I capture Siobhan’s face, though the top of her head was cut off.
I zoomed in on that last photo, on Siobhan’s pinched lips, determination with a hint of a smile. It showed me she was in her element. As I stared at the photo the woman with the tattoos asked that we go somewhere. She took my hand and together with the rancher and the blonde woman we set off towards the fairground attractions.
I thought that we were to go somewhere close by.
‘No, we should get a taxi somewhere far away that they won’t know about,’ the tattooed woman said quietly. She put her hands up in front of her nose, palms together in a little prayer, and her gesture confirmed that she meant just me and her, somewhere her husband or her neighbors would not know about. The gesture confirmed that our meeting would be illicit.
She was not unattractive and I thought hard about my answer before replying.
Photo from HippoPx.
