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remembering the horse whisperer after accidents, it’s much worse for horses if the movies have it right. humans, after all, can function in all sorts of marred conditions but horses must be flawless; the belief comes from too much mythology, from some school of rural design. so the horse is pulled to montana, booked with an expensive faith healer who looks just like robert redford. the horse doesn’t trust anyone until she’s certain it’s robert redford, so many men look like him. it takes a long time, this trust in blonde, rugged guys with fancy rope work. but there’s something about him; the jaded, but attractive fortyish renovated farmhouse horse owner sees it, too. something to do with silence, the way light hits worn denim, the porch slants west & each planet, if she squints after enough bottles of mexican beer resembles a tiny cure, fizzing & popping then gone. |