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A bunch of stories and poems… |
| "What a long day," I groaned as I entered my cold, dank stall one evening, shaking the tension out of my neck. "Farmer Joe is mean. He makes me pull loads of rocks that are much too heavy." "You should tell him to get another horse to help you out," a mockingbird said, flicking his tail as he perched on the rusty gate. "He doesn't understand when I talk to him. You'd think it would be common sense, but no. He's too cheap to buy another horse, so I've got to do all the work alone." "Perhaps you should leave." A rat slipped out from under some dusty shelving, making me stamp my hooves and snort. "You know I'm afraid of rats," I growled, ears laid back. "I could stomp you flat. Shoo!" "I'm only offering advice," the rat said, twitching his whiskers and eyeing me. "You're not obligated to slave for him. Go on, walk right out of this stable and see how good it feels to be free." "Free?" I wrinkled my nose. "Yes, free to be a horse. Look, he hasn't even thought to pour you oats for all that hard work. All you have is rat-infested hay to eat." The rat snickered. I rolled my eyes back and took a mouthful of the dry, musty hay. "Is anything better out there for me?" "Of course. I don't like it here either. Ain't nothing worth eating. Come on, I'll show you a real farm." I waved my tail and snorted. "Nonsense. Farmer Joe will come after me." "I have an idea," the mockingbird chirped. "The owners of the farm down the road are moving to a bigger, better ranch. They have huge horse trailers and lots of helpers. Maybe we can sneak you into one of them!" I perked up my ears. I didn't like riding in trailers, but I really did want to get to greener pastures, literally. If I never saw Farmer Joe again it would be too soon. The idea of walking into a trailer and being transported by magic to somewhere else entirely seemed appealing. "Ok, I'll do it," I agreed. “But you’ll have to help me.” As a scout, the mockingbird flew back and forth for the next few hours, reporting on Joe's whereabouts and the progress of the moving going on at the next farm. "Now's our chance!" He announced sometime after dark. "The owners went on ahead and the ranch hands are rounding up the horses!" The rat unlocked the gate, and the mockingbird led the way as I trotted towards the bustle of late-night activity on the other farm. It wasn't difficult to blend in with the other horses; the helpers, hired only to facilitate the move, were unfamiliar with us and assumed I was one of the horses they needed to move. Hollering to each other in a strange language, they loaded us into a comfy, air conditioned trailer fitted with lots of fresh, moist hay that smelled sweetly of green fields of summer. This was going to be enjoyable, I could figure out that much. Why, it was even lit up inside so I could see the other horses. “You’re not one of us, huh,” one chestnut stallion greeted me. “Enjoy the ride. You look like you could use better days.” *** Ten hours later, I was at the new ranch. "Say, who's this?" The owner examined me. "Looks like Farmer Joe's old horse. Judging by your state of neglect, I don't think we'll be sending you back. It's five hundred miles, anyway." My new stable was warm and sunlit, with a generous bucket of oats within reach. The owner rubbed me down and draped a plaid blanket over my back. After he left, I noticed a whiskered nose hiding in the hay, and heard a familiar chirp. "We came along to keep you company," the mockingbird said, fluttering up to a windowsill. "Now this is a real farm!" The rat busied himself making a bed in the clean hay on the floor. “I’m gonna like it here.” “I agree completely,” I said. I closed my eyes and relaxed my tired muscles, feeling a sense of happiness and excitement for the first time in many years. Word Count: 708. Prompt: ▼ |
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