Saturday 14 May 2016

The Cold Breath of Dreams.

half pipe?

How did this begin?

It was foggy; the animals slowly crossed the plains -there were Deer; there were Wildebeests.

They became horse and riders; there were two groups.

The forward group were women, riding together in close contact.

Evening was falling; the breath of effort forced from the nostrils of the horses as they climbed the side of the hill.

The second group, in unhurried pursuit, were men.

They rode with determined confidence, closing the gap and forcing the women to the higher land.

Slowly they approached, easing each woman aside as their mounts tired until finally the one was isolated.

She turned at the top of the slope and saw that she was trapped.

Her horse stopped.

In the fading light the horse’s mane was unmistakable - alternating bands of yellow and black, ruffled by the evening breeze.

The tallest rider approached from behind and in one move vaulted from his own horse onto hers.

She did not struggle.

She did not waver.

He spurred the horse forward as she resigned herself to his strength........

Something like that.


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