Indian Video Call

Jake’s horse was faster than the others. He passed Julie and had come even with Emily when the lead rider slowed, forcing the other horses back to a trot. And then a walk.Emily looked over at him, her smile broad, her eyes shining, her face flushed with excitement. She laughed out loud.“Thank you for bringing me, Jake.”No, she hadn’t shown anywhere near this much excitement the night before.“I just wish we could have found something more fun for you than being stuck out in the boonies. I hope you’re not too bored.”“No, I’ve never had so— Shut up, Jake. Stop teasing me. When we get back home, I’m going to talk my mom into letting me have a horse.”“Are you going to give up your bedroom so that it has a place to sleep?” Lizzie said, looking back from her position further ahead.“I guess it wouldn’t be practical, huh?” Emily said.“Sorry, missy.”Leanne trotted up beside Jake. She fixed him in a stare, raising an eyebrow. He smiled at her. This kind of thing had been happening more often. “Yeah, why not,” she had said. "Something different.” Neither of them had been to a show like that before and they were tired of the cultural trail, Notre Dame, the Louvre, Montmartre and Sacre Coeur, les Bateaux Mouche. Yep, they’d done that to death. “Too much bloody culture, if you ask me,” Max had commented. Martine found it hard to disagree. From the Bastille they rode the Metro along to Madeleine and then changed and headed north (they thought it was north, anyway) towards Pigalle, getting off a stop earlier at Saint-Georges. They’d seen Pigalle before, too, in all its seedy glory. The brash lights, the sex shops and strip clubs. The transvestite hookers. Or were they trans-sexuals? Even the Moulin Rouge looked a bit desperate in its attempts to attract. Leaving the station they headed up Rue Pierre Fontaine and then took a left onto Rue la Bruyere. After Rue Jean-Baptiste Pigalle they turned right into Rue Henner. Even if it wasn’t that far from Pigalle it seemed an.
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