All the Pretty Little Horses

"The smell of brandy hung in the air in

your bedroom. Light from the front porch gleamed on the white curtains.

The breeze carried in the earth-dry smell of grass. Afraid to wake you

from sleep, I lay down at the foot of the bed next to your feet under the

bedcover. I watched the curtains rise and fall in the breeze, listened to the

dry sounds of autumn leaves on the lawn, and finally no longer feeling the

tugging at my heart, I slept."

Wilderness House Literary Review

Summer 2014