the horses are pretty when they're running, and beautiful|
when standing still snorting and sighing in the rain and they
will not whinny as they wait there wet while we decide which
to wager on - they will save their voices for smaller crowds.
i watch the mist rise from their nostrils while i dig out the
small bills in my pockets to see what's left - if i don't lose
it here it will be somewhere else, and i like inventing
complex mathematical formulas to blow my cash with.
if i hit it big we'll buy that castle down the road - there's
no moat, but at least there's turrets (our archers will have to
be midgets) - or if they won't sell it we'll hire hitmen to
take them out and if their kids won't sell it, then we'll just have
to find a nice hilltop and build our own - we won't have
horses in the yard, 'cause giraffes have lovelier eyelashes.
Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien