Three Horses by Sara Dobbie
the three horses became my refuge, a glimmer of joy amidst the chaos of my life.
Recently Published
I no longer harangue every desk nurse at every hospital for a taxonomic breakdown of her bills. I don’t ask for the numbers of the Benadryl, the water cups, the abdominal touches done with gloved hands. I am the most American I’ve ever been—she costs what she costs and I eat it.
the three horses became my refuge, a glimmer of joy amidst the chaos of my life.
How much turquoise would we have to swallow if we needed to become gods?
I tell her David lives in Seattle with his husband. I don’t tell her that it’s been almost a year since David has spoken to me.
We slow-danced as he hummed a Dylan tune, the one about having God on our side. Johnny’s body was soothing like a Sunday morning.
We meet at the bottom. Our skin turns green and our hair stands on end. We plant our feet and hold hands and call the storm.