I remember the day, now. I didn’t for a long time. Not until we started talking. Not until that day with Gunnar in the creek. It comes back in snips, snaps, clips. The horse surging beneath me, and it’s like flying. Have you ever ridden a horse over a four foot fence? You rise up, and in that split second, you know it will go one of two ways; you’ll find freedom, or you’ll find death.
You can feel the horse change his mind. Every rider knows that moment, when he goes from confident and forward to afraid. He tried to turn back, but he was already airborne. He rose high enough to see the water hazard on the far side, and even though we’d done it a hundred times before, his confidence and momentum left.
The only way to go was down.
Stella – (a working title)