“Intoxicating and uplifting. The drink of the ears. The drug of the soul. We were showered with it. The exhibitors who had gone earlier in the day clapped Cecil on the back. They shook his hand. They recapped the tense moments of our run, the obvious triumphs, commiserated with him over the difficulty of his lot of sheep, praised him again. He shrugged it all off as mere luck. “Amazing run.” A short red-haired man with freckles clasped Cecil’s hand and shook it vigorously. “Just ... amazing.” “T...hank you, Becket. Parts were a bit rough, but I s’pose we got the job done.” Bernadette kissed him on the cheek. Her pride was barely containable. She hooked her arm through his and leaned against him as they walked toward the truck to put his crook away and get me a drink of water. “They’re saying you ought to win this thing, Cecil.” He puckered his face up, then rinsed his mouth with water from the bottle that she handed to him. “Naw. Clancy’s run was smooth. He did his in half the time.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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