Horse cop / Fiddle

The proud police man mounts his horse and takes a moment before beginning his patrol of the sidewalk. He takes a deep breath of the summer air before putting on his riding gloves and adjusting his city issued mirrored sunglasses. It was a beautiful day in Tricksville. He aimed to keep in that way.

As he makes his way down the sidewalk potential double-parkers think twice, would be vandals reconsider, loiterers move on, habitual jay walkers make their way to the cross walk. From up on his horse he is more than just a traffic cop, he's a symbol of times past - times when lawmen on horses were the town's ultimate peace keepers. Justice on four legs. Only difference was he didn't carry a gun. He had a big pocketbook instead.

Pedestrians are quick to part and make way for the formidable pair. Both cop and horse are greeted with thankful stares and smiles of appreciation from the citizens who enjoy the blanket of rule adherence and order they provide.

The traffic cop regards them all from up high on his clip clopping throne and returns their stares and smiles with a tiny nod and an ardent focus of the task at hand. Sweat slowly drips down his leg before being absorbed by the wool socks pulled up high underneath his polyester pants. A lesser cop would have worn the city issued shorts on a day like today - maybe even requested a bike or traffic cart. Not him. He preferred the full coverage of the proud department blue and the gentle saunter of his steed. The very model of professionalism.

"What an asshole" everyone thinks.

zeroth life lesson: riding horses is stupid. cops are dicks.