Forget the Horse


Helen posted this one as a comment!  Advice to anyone else keen to join us, post your story as a comment for moderation and then I can invite you as a contributor – or not!  Such is my scary power.   Which by the way I have wielded to give this a title. 

I stood under the trees like a horse, motionless, patient, waiting for the rainstorm to pass.


It may have looked that way. Inside, I was seething. How can my own sister be too cheap to hire a tent?

Shivering guests in soggy finery huddled together with the band, casually passing around bottles and plates they’d rescued from the picnic, while the photographer captured candid moments of camaraderie.

And all the time my cake – my cake! – was out there in the downpour. Sugar petals drooped, icing leaves fell, swags lost their swagger.

Forget the horse. My kingdom for a marquee.

3 Responses to “Forget the Horse”

  1. alisonwriting Says:

    The paragraphing restored! The system lumped it all together when I pasted the post (posted the paste…)

  2. louheron Says:

    Since I don’t know how to post anything properly, here is my story. Thanks to Chris for pointing to this blog.

    I stood under the trees like a horse, motionless, patient, waiting for the rainstorm to pass, my face wet and numb. Cold falling crystal drops, the seeming of pure, but each soiled by its tiny nidus of dust, heedlessly mingled with warm and salty rivulets laden with my heart’s ash. This was truth, I realized with baptismal clarity. All that seems limpid is a lie, and no love is pure. I saw even the selfishness tainting my own love. She was gone, and I was alone, standing under the trees like a horse, flooded by new wisdom, but no wiser.

  3. goforchris Says:

    Cheers, Lou – so glad you came along! I take it you’re staying as Ol’ Lou, then? 😉

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