Photo by Will Porada on Unsplash (Color adjusted by Erin Penn)
The new boots were tight. Combined with the wool socks to control blisters, Dallas would need to give the bootstraps a good pull to get them settled right. He wiggled the leather back and forth using the tabs until his toes and heels reached bottom. Standing on the wooden porch, he felt his feet settle in the sole but it still wasn’t comfortable.
Dawn was making itself known, and he could hear the cattle lowing in the barn, complaining about the situation. Letting the world know that the green field-grass would be much obliged to be in their bellies.
He needed to be about it, and this not rightly-settled wasn’t goin’ to work none and he wasn’t particular wanting to restart. In a desperate move, just for the sure hell of it, he leaned over, grabbed one boot strap in each hand, and yanked harder than the bull does on the rope when the females start smelling particularly purdy.
“What do you know? That worked.” Dallas unbent to stand tall, the boots feeling fine.
And everything was fine until he took a step off the porch and ended up mid-air.
Two steps forward more and still midair, though not because of a tumble, Dallas looked back. He remained level with the porch.
“Well, dang it all.” He took off his straw hat, hit it against his jeans, ran his hand through his hair, and placed the hat back on his head. “I ain’t got time for this.”
He stomped off to the barn, as much as one can stomp the air, and got the day started. After opening the barn doors to let the cows into the corral, he made his way to the horse stall to saddle up Reliable, though threading the straps under the belly took a bit of work. The porch was only a couple foot in the air, but the barn was slightly downhill from the house, putting him nearly four-foot clear into the air. The only pleasant part was an easy swing of the leg over Reliable to mount.
A click of the tongue and the day finally started going right as he rode Reliable out of the barn.
(words 364, first published 6/16/2025)