Horses and Men: Tales, Long and Short, from Our American Life

Horses and Men: Tales, Long and Short, from Our American Life

Horses and Men: Tales, Long and Short, from Our American Life

Horses and Men: Tales, Long and Short, from Our American Life

Excerpt

Did you ever have a notion of this kind--there is an orange, or say an apple, lying on a table before you. You put out your hand to take it. Perhaps you eat it, make it a part of your physical life. Have you touched? Have you eaten? That's what I wonder about.

The whole subject is only important to me because I want the apple. What subtle flavors are concealed in it--how does it taste, smell, feel? Heavens, man, the way the apple feels in the hand is something-- isn't it?

For a long time I thought only of eating the apple. Then later its fragrance became something of importance too. The fragrance stole out through my room, through a window and into the streets. It made itself a part of all the smells of the streets. The devil!-- in Chicago or Pittsburgh, Youngstown or Cleveland it would have had a rough time.

That doesn't matter.

The point is that after the form of the apple began to take my eye I often found myself unable to touch at all. My hands went toward the object of my desire and then came back.

There I sat, in the room with the apple before me, and hours passed. I had pushed myself off into a world where nothing has any existence. Had I done . . .

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