“Ya know, he had only one testicle.”
“WHAT??” her horse said, as it whipped her head around to try and get eye contact. “WHO only had one testicle?”
“Jean Pierre. In college. Actually, he pronounced his name, ‘John Pierre.’ I guess he thought that sounded more American. Anyway, he was a Dance Major. He loved to brag about it. It was the line he used to get girls in bed.”
“That worked?” her horse asked.
“Yeah. For a lot more girls than you would think.”
Her horse whinnied and nodded vehemently, bucking her bit. “I swear, you humans and your weird thing about covering up. I’d seen that, I’d never given him the time of day.”
She smiled. “Agreed. Anyway…we’re here in Paris to entertain, so are we going to go ride off into the so-called sunset for the tower tourists, or what?
“Let’s ride ‘em, Cowgirl!”
Mondays Finish the Story asks you use the provided image and opening sentence to build a story somewhere between 100 – 150 words.
BTW…I write this with apologies to John Paul, wherever life has taken him. I saw this prompt and I couldn’t resist. I’d like to think he’d be OK with it. He was a sort-of funny, delightfully weird Dance Major with an easy-going nature who chewed tobacco, liked to tell anyone who would listen that he had only one testicle, and chased every single girl he laid eyes on. They don’t make characters richer than that. And, no. I never saw proof of his anatomy, simply because I took him at his word (and, of course, because of my boyfriend at the time). But, one weekend morning, when he sauntered out of my roommate’s bedroom, she happily announced she could confirm his claim. So, I made a stack of pancakes to mark the occasion. Totally true story.