Shiny Green

He stepped onto the rink but hung onto the low hockey wall till his feet remembered what to do. Over the speaker a voice announced the next number was a jam, so join or stay out of the way.  A string of guys formed, like segments of some enormous caterpillar. They leaned into the center on the turns, every step a lunge forward on the beat to “Move It” led by this amazing looking guy in Rasta dreads, shiny green shirt, and jeans plastered on.

Red Heifer

Sweat rolled down Gabriel’s face. Through the sights of the launcher, he stared at the animal for the very first time, like a groom finally seeing his bride on the wedding day. The sun had burnt us all in the past few weeks, but Gabriel’s face had drained of color. His index finger flirted with the trigger.