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Winded and coughing, I lay on one elbow and spat out a mouthful of grass and mud.  The horse I'd been riding raised its weight off my ankle, scrambled untidily to its feet and departed at an unfeeling gallop.  I waited for things to settle:  chest heaving, bones still rattling from the bang, sense of balance recovering from the thirty-mile-an-hour somersault and a few tumbling rolls.  No harm done.  Nothing broken.  Just another fall.
-Dick Francis,  Reflex