Aim

Booted

I grabbed my cowboy boy hat and my boots. I slipped them on.

My bedroom door opened and a cold breeze swept in. The toes on my right foot froze. I looked down, a big hole wore through the front. I'm going to have to take that to the warehouse.

My father was standing at the front door and peering out the small window with his hand on his belt holding a hoof cleaner, pocket knife, pocket shovel, and a new pistol.

"Dad?" I said after watching him for what felt like minutes. He grunted and walked into the kitchen, not even looking at me.

I waited until he couldn't see me and then walked over to the window to see what had my dad in wonder.

A big wagon with an ox. I was right, which was not a first. I always had accelerated senses. The only strange thing was that the ox wasn't fastened to anything by a rope or post.
I reached for the handle as quietly as I could.

"Haven't gotten anything to eat yet, have you?" I jumped and spun around. My mom was standing in the foyer with her arms crossed.

"No mama" I said as innocently as I could.

"Well than get your butt in the kitchen." She said scowling.
I walked past her looking at the floor.