ABSTRACT
Begin in the autobiographical present, a moment frozen in the past. My brother and I in our cowboy outfits, sitting on sway-backed Sonny, our deaf and partially blind pony. We are five and nine at the time; Grandpa and Grandma are watching us from behind the corral fence. We have toy pistols. We are wearing little leather vests, chaps, cowboy boots, cowboy hats. We are smiling. We think we are cowboys in the coral, just like Roy Rogers and Gene Autry.
