Ficlets

Monday Blues

My boots were filled with water and my mouth was letting loose an epitaph of such vile substance to scorch the innocence off the face of babes. It seemed hardly worth the effort to find shelter in this hellish downpour, though my mount seemed to feel otherwise. Tired of fighting her endless attempts into the drier and more protected wood, I loosened the reins and gave up the last bit of control I had over this day. Ego, courage, and confidence had been dashed to rubble by mid morning and it seemed that, on this day of days, sheer stubbornness would not prevail either. I could only rely on the last of my reserves of hope and luck, which were also running dangerously low. As luck would have it, Shira’s determined walk led us though a formidable landscape of shadows and ghosts looming from invisible sky. How much of this day was left to torment me was lost in the mist and and rain. I resigned to sleep in the saddle when Shira stopped, lowered her head, and neighed quietly.

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