Prompt: 027. mount
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Prompt: 027. mount
1. The little girl looked equal parts terrified and exhilarated as the groom helped her mount the horse.
A. The little girl looked equal parts terrified and exhilarated as the groom helped her mount the horse. Her mother stood off to the side, her smile wide even as her fingers had a white knuckled grip on the fence post.
She’d vowed that her little girl would do all the things she’d only dreamed of growing up. It was why she’d striven so hard to succeed in her life and career–she’d gotten pregnant and realized that she needed to do better. She wasn’t alone anymore, there was someone counting on her.
They’d come so far, from living in a studio apartment that shared a bathroom to having their own house, bought and paid for. They never had to worry that paying the electric bill would short-change their grocery budget. They weren’t rich, but they were comfortable enough to afford a day trip to a local horse camp and one-on-one riding lessons for her daughter.
2. He mounted the stairs one at a time, pausing to catch his breath when he needed to. Cracking half his ribcage was the most painful thing he’d ever experienced, and even while healing his ribs still hurt.
A. He mounted the stairs one at a time, pausing to catch his breath when he needed to. Cracking half his ribcage was the most painful thing he’d ever experienced, and even while healing his ribs still hurt. He was lucky to be alive, and he knew it.
The unsub had had him dead to rights. But instead of killing him the creep had broken his ribs with a mallet, and while he’d laid there helpless on the floor, the unsub had leaned real close. And sniffed his hair.
Just thinking about it gave him the creeps.
3. Squaring her shoulders and putting a firm expression on her face, she preceded to mount the stage and approach the microphone. There was a whole roomful of people wanting to hear what she had to say.
A. Squaring her shoulders and putting a firm expression on her face, she preceded to mount the stage and approach the microphone. There was a whole roomful of people wanting to hear what she had to say.
She’d never felt so important or terrified before in her life.
“Hello, excuse me.” She tapped the microphone to test that it was working. It was, and her little taps sounded LOUD. She drew in a deep breath. “Welcome everybody. Unfortunately Mrs. Lanchester couldn’t be here this evening, but she asked that I take her place to introduce our talented young singers.”
The curtain lifted to reveal three bleachers full of young people dressed in white shirts and black pants. They were arranged by height with the tallest in the back row.
“First we’ll have a performance, and afterward we can begin the bidding.”
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