Flash Fiction Friday: Bull Ride

Tate Russell stood above the bull, one foot on the fence and one on the gate. He put leather gloves on and reached down with his left hand to grip the thick rope tied around the middle of the bulky animal.

All he had to do was stay on for twenty seconds after the gate lifted. The bull pawed the ground and snorted. A hard knot formed in Tate’s stomach. He swallowed and pushed all thoughts of what could go wrong out of his mind. He had to focus on his grip, the animal and take each moment as it came. He nodded that he was ready. He eased himself down upon the longhorn, the gate opened and the bull jumped out of the gate and started bucking.

Tate held on with his left hand, his right hand in the air helping to balance his body as he was jerked around by the bucking of the bull. Ten seconds in and the bull bucked and twisted its body throwing Tate to the ground.

Tate got up, ran and jumped over the fence to avoid further confrontation with the dangerous animal. He dusted off his behind shaking his head. He didn’t win this one, but there’s always another ride.

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