To Vera, a Horse I Knew
Creative Nonfiction - 100 words
I wonder if you recognize my voice, Vera.
You’re in the stall near the back of the barn, but I’m not sure you know this. It hurts to see you on the ground in pain, so frail, nickering in the near dark.
I’ve heard stories upon stories about you over the years: how you saved a girl, gave her direction, filled her life with meaning.
This is goodbye. For now, at least.
Blindness, be gone! I hope you see everything: rolling green hills, dusty canyons, endless golden dawns.
Gallop far and free forever, you beautiful being.
Oh, sweet Vera…rest now.
Hi all,
A good friend of mine recently lost her beloved horse, and soulmate, Vera. Their connection—and my friend’s love for Vera—is unparalleled. I feel lucky to have heard so many stories about their relationship over the past few years. Whether she knew it or not, Vera was the queen of her twenty acres—and the equestrian center at large.
But something inside tells me that she knew.
In honor of Vera, let’s gather by the fire this Friday, January 10th at 3:00 PM EST to read and write fifty-word stories. Please drop by when and if you can.
Prompt: Write a fifty-word story (fiction, creative nonfiction, or poetry) about a horse, or horses.
Thank you all for being here, and I hope you have a wonderful week!
Ah, such a heartfelt little eulogy, Justin. "Gallop far and free forever, you beautiful being." Lovely words. Golly, it is hard to say goodbye to our old four-legged friends.
I would be happy to add to the brief literature about wonderful, life-saving horses. I too enjoyed such a relationship and ever wrote a book of poems about my beautiful Abby. Here goes:
To My Abby
I didn't even recognize you, standing there looking like a woolly mammoth, head drooped to the ground. That familiar nicker never again left your lips. Months later, you fought death as you fought the rein, yet I remember rides across the mountain, a moonlight encounter with a bear, brushing you as you munched wildflowers in the meadow. People marveled I could throw the rope over your withers, leaving you untied while I took your tack box back to the shed. "Where's she gonna go," I'd tell them. "She's always been good for me even if she isn't good for you."