By in Writing










It’s a dark, frigid night in January. Normally, I don’t go walking late at night. And in the middle of a snow fest, no less! But tonight, I need to be outdoors. Staying in only makes me think of him.

It’s dark, but still clear. There is no howling wind. And, there are stars in the sky tonight. Perhaps they will help me find my way. Someone in love might say the stars are shining to celebrate their happiness.

I thought I knew what love was. Twice. Both times I was horribly wrong.

Not that I will ever hate him. I can’t and I don’t. I was just wrong.

So, I went to bed early and woke up in the middle of the night. And here I am wandering around in the middle of nowhere. And frankly, I couldn’t care less. It’s just me, the falling snow, and the empty, hollowed out stars.

Looking up at them, I wonder…will they ever be happy again? Will I?

Somehow, I doubt that. I tried to show him that he is worthy of love…but I failed. Miserably.

I could have just gone out for a drive or to a movie, I suppose. But I just got out of bed, got bundled up, and started walking. I didn’t bring my mobile phone with me. The noise of it would have broken my solitude.

I didn’t even bother to bring my watch. What’s the use of keeping track of time when it doesn’t mean anything to you anymore?

I’ve just passed an old farm house. It’s not drab or boring at all. No, it’s quite beautiful. Does anyone live here? Not according to the for sale sign tacked to the end of the wooden fence. I wonder what the asking price is?

The moon appears from behind a patch of almost invisible clouds. I stop and gaze at it. Have you ever been in love, moon? Her pale glow vanishes where it meets snow. I walk on.

Time slips on, but how much time has passed? How long has it been since he last even gave thought of me? Does he think of me now?

I’ve walked so far and for so long there are no longer any houses or other buildings in sight. No people, no barking dogs. No cars on the road. No one left in the world but me.

I find myself standing in the middle of a massive field. Trees of various kinds sprawl all around me, but their branches seem heavy and forlorn beneath the weight of the snow.

About half a yard or so from where I’m standing, a pair of owls roosts in one of the trees. They’ve seen me, but do not appear disturbed. I stand for an eternity watching them.

Unlike most human beings, most breeds of owls remain together for life. What love they must feel for one another.

If only I could have known such a love.

The earth beneath my feet begins to rumble. An earthquake? The vibrations have set the owls to flight. I watch them disappear, but find myself unable to move. And then, a sound.

I strain to hear. The ground still rumbles, but no trees are falling…No, nothing seems in danger. A wave of snow dust is beginning to form. What is it? Should I take cover? Should I run?

I can’t.

The noise is stronger and louder now, but still I do not flee. Closing my eyes, I try to distinguish what the sound is.

It is not the sound of earthquake or even of thunder. Horses! I open my eyes and gasp. A STAMPEDE OF HORSES! THEY’RE RUNNING STRAIGHT AT ME! Even now, I cannot run. I am mesmerized. Nonetheless, terror is filling my heart. I’m about to be trampled to death!

Just as I try to block my face with my hands, they stop. The only sound they make is a soft snorting. Slowly, I open my eyes. There are at least six…no, eight of them. They are all the same colour…


Where did they come from? The only farm I saw along the road is abandoned. No one has lived there for several months. Quite possibly for years now. Why did they stop so suddenly?

They are all very young horses. From the centre of the group, two foals appear. They are no more than a few months in age. They too, are pure white.

One of the adult horses, a mare, steps forward half an inch. She makes a noise so soft and gentle that I can’t resist the urge to reach out my hand. Something about her catches my eye.

I have never seen this before, and for a second, it astounds me. She has the most amazing blue eyes I have ever seen! They are so clear, I can almost see into her soul. They seem filled with love…but sad.

Her nostrils quiver a bit when I reach to touch her muzzle, but she does not back away from my hand. Instead, she pushes against it. I begin to cry, quietly.

“Beautiful girl…where did you come from? Is this your family? Did you run away from something? From someone? Are you hungry? Are you hurt?”

They all begin to snort and neigh. The two foals peer out curiously from behind another of the adults. I can sense they’re fearful. Perhaps they’ve never had human contact before? I frantically try to think of a way to reassure them.

There is no fruit on the trees to offer them. If I move too quickly, they will retreat. What can I do? The mare is still staring at me.

“Why are you here?” I go on crying, stroking her muzzle. After a few moments, she bows her head.

I cannot fathom why these creatures are here. Or where they have come from…but a sudden thought has come to me. Many Native American tribes used to-and sometimes still do-refer to horses as “wild dogs.”

Wild dogs. What a beautiful image this brings to my mind. Wild dogs are never tamed by any human hand. They roam the land free, answering to no one apart from the members of their own packs.

In every single Native American culture, horses are a representation of the same thing…freedom. So, now at last, I am beginning to understand…these animals have Icome to set me free.

I look the mare in the eyes, still crying. You sweet girl! Thank you for trying. But, you see, you will never be able to free me of this pain completely, because I will never stop loving him. I will not force him to love me, but I love him for the rest of my life. I know I should try to stop loving him…I have tried! I even tried to hate him once…but it’s no use. I can’t hate him. I never have and I never could. Even as much as he hurt me.

She stands beside me with her ears pricked. She is listening, I know. She does not pass judgment, but she does understand. The two foals continue to watch me as I cling to the mare, but do not approach me.

I’ve just remembered! Moving slowly, so as not to frighten mare or foals, I reach into the pocket of my coat. I almost always keep a packet of lifesavers candies in my pocket for when my throat gets dry.

I’ve run out of my favourites, wild cherry, but I do have a packet of green apple. I open it and gingerly walk toward the foals, who have once more retreated to the safety of the adults.

The mare suddenly watches me moving toward the foals. She darts in front of me. Perhaps she thinks I mean them harm. I turn back to her, and hold out the roll of green candies.

Are you their Mama, sweet girl? I won’t harm them, or you, I promise. They’re beautiful, just like you! Hoping to ease her worry, I hold out one of the candies to her. Would you like one? She snorts, then lowers her head to have a sniff.

To my great joy and delight, she accepts the offering. She eats it straight from my hand, now frozen because I removed a glove to offer the candy. She eats daintily, then takes a few steps backwards and makes a sort of nodding motion with her head, as if to say it’s okay to approach her children.

I stop just about an inch in front of them, holding out a piece of candy in each hand. They don’t move for quite a long time, and I’m sad to think they must be frightened by my presence.

But soon enough, the curiosity possessed by all children, human and animal alike overtakes them. They come slowly ever closer, stopping directly in front of me. They give one last glance at their protector, who softly gives them the all clear.

It’s all right, beauties. It’s candy. They’re really good. You’ll like them, I promise! I know it’s sugar, but a little sweet won’t hurt you now and then, will it Mama? I keep one eye on the mare, the other on the foals.

Again, the mare snorts softly.

Success! Horses, for some unknown reason, have a taste for sugar. It has never seemed to harm them in small quantities, so why not let them have a candy? Both foals are eating from my hands now.

When they have finished their treat, they remain with me. The other horses are looking curiously at me now. I have made friends with them, I think. I move as quietly toward the others as possible. The mare and babies follow me, the foals on either side. It’s then I realise a male is watching me very closely. Usually, males will chase off any threat to their herds, but he seems perfectly content to let me stay among them.

As we stand watching each other intently, the other horses gather round me in a circle and start to walk slowly around me. Mare and male bow their heads to me in one last gesture of grace.

And then, I watch as the herd runs, disappearing into the night.

Sorry, I know this one is a bit long, but I scanned through my most recent works and this is one of my favourites. I hope some of you will enjoy it.

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LeaPea2417 wrote on January 3, 2016, 5:08 PM

That is really well written!! Good luck as you continue to add to this story.

MegL wrote on January 3, 2016, 5:39 PM

Loved that. Really enjoyed it. Great description of the scenery and good tension where she doesn't understand what is happening at first.

wolfgirl569 wrote on January 3, 2016, 6:12 PM

Very lovely. I can see the horses as you write, and the farm house. Sorry I refuse to see the snow. emoticon :smile:

allen0187 wrote on January 3, 2016, 11:08 PM

Well written work here! Love how you described the horses, I can see them clearly as if they are in front of me!

Deepizzaguy wrote on January 4, 2016, 7:01 PM

A very good story that you have written.