_Chu!_ I reach my heel back, swift kick to the rockhard gut _Chu!_ Then airborne, squinting through approaching twilight, searching for marmot holes in the impossibly mottled grass. I will never ride as the Mongols do. There is something about being raised on horseback, coming from the greatest horse-people in the world, [gyroscopic](http://jtermwriting.wordpress.com/2008/01/25/100-words-for-friday/) blood. Raised Wooden saddles, floating inches above the horseback; short stirrups, tied together beneath the belly, that would make our knees lock and scream. They fly in frozen standing stance, slouched to one side, pole-lasso in hand, poised in galloped rhythm — familiar as their own pulse.
One Reply to “100 Words: Gyroscope”
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Your 100-word shorts are all arresting for their sounds, their images their fullness of thought and feeling, but there’s something really extraordinary here about the way you create an entire experience in a place with a people unlike yourself–gyroscopic blood and familiar as their own pulse are exacting phrases that stay with me and conjure up an image of such specificity that I am transported to a place I’ve never seen. Lovely.