He was sweating like a rider enveloped in effort, his boots chafing the body of the horse. The whip cracked and the horse picked up, liquid sprinkling; veins becoming visceral. Hard teeth grinding with anguish, it jerked back knowing that it would hurt later. He pushed the back down, hushing until it was still, breaking its behavior with tangled ropes and humiliation. Dust flew around them. It back-kicked with its hooves. He bled in the nose and then remounted, being flung with whiplash and exasperation. And then she faced him and made him shift until he looked into her mouth.
Sarah Jean Estime is an Aircraft Mechanic in the Air Force. When she is not working her day job, she is composing works related to literary fiction. She has been published by the African American Review, O-Dark-Thirty, Burner Magazine, and Pif Magazine. She currently writes for Blogcritics and Litro Magazine.