Three-Legged Horse

Three-Legged Horse

Three-Legged Horse

Three-Legged Horse

Excerpt

He stood at the stern of his boat, punting hard with a bamboo pole. The boat skimmed over the glassy surface of the water. He was the best boatman in Old Town. Across the river was a beach where he had built a ferry slip of sorts with the beach sand. A man was now standing on that slip. He poled hard again, his shoulder muscles rippling. Of all the townsfolk of Old Town, only he could get his boat across this broad expanse of water with just ten strokes. Already, the boat was midstream.

Relying on his ability as coxswain, the dragonboat team of Old Town had won three championships in a row in the past few years and now permanently claimed the silver cup.

As he drew up the half-immersed pole, beads of water dripped down its length. Still coated with black sand, the end of the pole dragged along the water surface, leaving a black trail. All the muscles between his shoulder blades and along his arms moved in rhythm. He himself could feel them ripple.

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