3. My Palomino Stallion (cont.)

“Dirty,” I repeated, and dismounted my charger so it could no longer call attention to the scandalous place between my legs. And even though I knew perfectly well that I was only a little girl riding a pretend horse, the voice inside my head, which sounded very much like my mother’s, was shocked and shaming.

But the shocked, shaming voice was followed by a stunning realization, entirely my own. I realized that I didn’t have the slightest idea what those women sitting across the street on the disapproving porch were saying to one another. They were too far away for me even to make out accurately the expressions on their faces. And so I was the one who had put the shaming words into their mouths.

Maybe, it occurred to me with a sudden rush of wonder and despair, I was the one with the dirty mind!