Nickles

My day at the races on Sunday went alright. The only horses to race in the winter around here are standard breds, which I bet sparingly, so I bet several races being run down at Santa Anita. My play has been hit and miss but yesterday was a hit: backed a few favourites and the longshot that won the last race.

The crowd was sparse due to the early arrival of spring. That gave me a chance to chat with Robyn, my favourite waitress. She told me about how, "When I was still only about seven years old my daddy bought me a horse. A quarter horse mare named Nickles. Me and Nickles were soon inseparable. Rain or shine I was down at the farm where we boarded her. We didn't have room to keep her on the small lot we lived on in Cherrydale. Then one day about eight years later I learned I liked to fuck boys more than I liked to ride and care for Nickles. My daddy sold her to a nice family with a girl that hadn't yet learned whether or not she preferred fucking boys to riding and caring for horses."