#8 it’s GREAT!

More to see and read @ the Trading Post!

The next one – is a pretty easy guess don’cha think?

Racetrack Special

It was hardly the time or the place to be thinking about a horse, any horse, the man decided, even Man o’ War. He pulled up the collar of his overcoat and pushed his head against the drizzling, chilling dampness that penetrated everything he wore right down to the flannel undershirt beneath his heavy gray suit. It was unusually cold for only the 22nd of October. But one couldn’t count on anything in New York. Full of surprises, always.

He glanced up at the buildings rising like giant pyramids above him. Even Times Square wasn’t square. It was a triangle, noisy and garish. And now that the morning was just about over, Broadway was coming to life, with theater and store managers trying to pierce the milkiness with pale, flickering lights. It was a losing battle. The fog wasn’t going to lift for a while. Maybe he wouldn’t even be able to see the backstretch of the big track at Aqueduct.

As he turned west on 42nd Street his way became more crowded and noisier than ever. Yet as he pushed his way through the surging throng he allowed his large head to emerge a bit more from his overcoat, much like a giant sea turtle peeking out from its heavy shell. He watched the marquee lights flashing on and off and, somehow, they seemed to warm him. He became less uncomfortable, less dissatisfied with the weather. He didn’t try to understand his love for the hum and roar of the city, not just any city, just New York. He was a country boy and he should be thinking more about the warm October days of his youth in Kentucky. Now those were the good years of quiet and peace and horses. But he wouldn’t trade one inch of this paved street for all of Kentucky’s green acres, not anymore! The way he’d felt as a kid was long since over.

Reaching the subway entrance, he turned into it and left 42nd Street’s lights and hubbub behind. He stopped at a newsstand, picked up several papers, then hurried down a flight of steep steps as if diving into a cellar.

The smell of the subway grew stronger in his nostrils and he could see the long line forming before the change booth. Over the booth a sign read:


Here’s the rest as a pdf- 8th book chapter

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Enjoy the subway ride!