Big Book Of Lesbian Horse Stories Read Online Free PDF Page A

Colony,” she explained tersely. “She’s too drunk to walk.”
    After several more unsuccessful attempts to rouse Midge, a cab pulled up and Tilly leaped out. “Oh Midge,” she mourned. “I was afraid of something like this.” Turning to Jean, she said, “Thank you, Jean, and try to understand. Midge’s problem is overidentification with her father, which compelled her to embrace a patriarchal power system, while her own desires placed her squarely in opposition to that very system. She does the best she can.”
    Jean nodded slowly. “I guess I do understand, a little bit. And maybe I could forgive her, if it wasn’t for Chopper.”
    â€œChopper!” Midge echoed drunkenly, tears streaming down her freckled face. “Best horse I ever had, ’cept for Lucky. Lucky dead, Chopper dead, all dead . . .”
    Jean’s blood froze. Chopper was—dead?
    Tilly spoke, in answer to Jean’s unspoken question. “We don’t know what happened to Chopper. Midge hasn’t seen him since that night.”
    Jean collapsed into a chair, her face in her hands. When she looked up again, there was a large frame blocking the doorway. Could it be? Jean wiped the tears from her eyes and looked again. A familiar whinny told her that she wasn’t seeing things. Chopper! “Midge!” she cried, hugging the drunken woman. “Look who’s here!”
    â€œHey, Jean, I’ve been looking for you!” Louise said with her wide smile as she squeezed past Chopper. “I thought maybe you’d have an idea of what I could do with this horse I found. Do you know him? I was keeping him at my friend Andy’s place, the Factory, but they’re getting into psychedelics right now, and it didn’t seem like the best environment for a horse. What do you think? Should I take him to my parents’ place in the Hamptons? They run a dressage school.”
    â€œChopper!” Jean flung her arms around the horse. “I think Chopper would love the Hamptons!”
    â€œPoor li’l Midge never got t’go t’th’ Hamptons,” Midge muttered.
    The long-haired man approached the group by the door. “We’re having a meeting here in a little while,” he said, distributing fliers. “Maybe some of you would be interested in coming.” Jean looked at the flier, which announced at the top “The Gay Liberation Front.” Liberation—that had a sweet sound.
    â€œI’m certainly interested,” Tilly declared, folding the flier up and putting it in her pocketbook. “After Midge has had a little coffee, we’ll both be back! It’s time some changes were made.”
    â€œSounds fabulous,” Louise agreed. “Can Chopper stay?”
    â€œLiberation is for everyone,” the man answered earnestly.
    As Chopper drank from a bucket by the bar, and Midge and Tilly got into their cab, Jean stood in the doorway, surveying the Village. Times sure were changing. “Here,” said the sharp-featured dark-haired girl, thrusting a pamphlet into her hands. “ SCUM Manifesto ,” Jean read out loud. She looked after the woman, who was hurrying down the street, rudely jostling a young woman who approached the Colony timidly. The young woman paused in the shadow of the building, and Jean noticed that she carried a small suitcase. “Excuse me,” she said to Jean. “Can you tell me which way Greenwich Village is?”
    Jean smiled. The young woman reminded her of herself, when she had arrived in town, little more than a week ago.
    â€œI—I’m a little lost,” the woman continued nervously.
    That voice. It was jogging something in Jean’s memory. A voice she thought she’d never hear again. Then the woman stepped closer, looking more closely at Jean, and the light of the doorway fell on her beaming face. “You’re not lost anymore, Cathy,” Jean cried