My limp hand rested flat on the railings as I watched the 57th Kentucky Derby commence; my surroundings radiated heat in silence as I wiped the beads of sweat from my brow. I could see the mares lining up in preparation, each one shuffling and shifting from side to side. I focused my attention on one in particular; her elongated muzzle appeared moist and her warm, red tongue caressed her mouth, which was slightly ajar. The enveloping noise made her uneasy - she widened her mouth and her whole body began to surge upwards as she reared back; I could see each muscle tensing in turn as she let out a sound of discomfort. My concentration was averted elsewhere when I heard a voice: “I had a run-in with one those damn blacks yesterday! Horrible things, aren’t they?” “Yes, quite,” I laughed, trying to gather myself as the blood in me seemed to cool once more. “I caught the bastard snooping around on my land.” The white flag was dropped and the steaming mares charged forward with grace and power; each individual muscle hardened and stretched as they were ridden to – hopefully - success. “What did you do?” I enquired. * To put my thoughts at ease, I decided to watch an Astaire at the local movie house, and I made sure that I arrived at a time that ensured I would avoid a large mass of crowds. I arrived in an empty auditorium and the white light and black shadows stroked and danced on my face as I moved to my seat. I sat down at the front and, making myself comfortable, began to watch. The chiaroscuro astounded me as I watched the monochrome colours on the screen’s skin touch and rub over each other time
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