Something in Their Eyes
By T. Keeney
I know horse manure about the music business and rap stars and people so when I had the chance to throw Big Swinging d**k right the hell out of my barn, it wasn’t hard.
The day started out hustle-bustle. I’m usually the first one at the barn—I hardly sleep past five o’clock any more after all them years inside, plus I got a trailer on-site the Department of Corrections pretends ain’t there because of liability issues. Dr. Ripley calls it a storage trailer on the paperwork—I do have horse pellets, meds, bridle parts, and such in one bedroom. Nice to have a place of my own that’s bigger than an eight by ten cell.
That day, Miguel was already leading horses out to pasture when I strolled up just before six.
“, Mr. Hazelton,” Miguel said. Annie wa
