A Year

Inside the fence, two horses brayed and nuzzled the frost from one another in the pasture. They were thin, but their brown, black and grey winter coats were in full, so they looked almost gluttonous, like a couple politician’s wives in mink coats. Their tails, at ease as the fog, twitched occasionally, swatting at a long gone fly they missed in summer. To the east, over the pasture fences and through the silhouettes of knotted, naked trees, smoke rose lazily from the chimney of home, yawned from the logs reclining in the fire place atop days of coals that begged cleaning.

6 thoughts on “A Year

  1. Wonderful description and choice of words James, I especially like the slow, delicate pace of the first paragraph, how it gradually draws you into Elliot’s melancholy world.

    You should keep on going, see where it goes…

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