The old man sucked in the tobacco from the lip of his wooden pipe while leaning heavily on his hand-engraved cane. He chuckled and motioned with his grayed beard at the young lad on the dirt road.
"That lad's come a cropper because he didn't know enough to reign in Damon's stud."
Damon looked down his spectacles at the lad struggling to stand up, holding the side of his head with one hand. The horse whinnied and reared, then sidestepped him with nostrils flaring. The groomsman walked confidently toward the stud clicking his tongue and calling to the horse.
"Unfortunately, he's too busy showing off to Anna to learn how to ride properly," Damon confided.
"Perhaps the lump on his head is an encouragement to keep his attention in the proper place in the future.
The old man took a long draw off the pipe. Smoke curled around his ears. He nodded knowingly and rambled back into the house letting the door bang behind him.
Thank you for reading! I hope that you injoyed this flash fiction.
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