SATIN AND CINDERS – A SHORT STORY
For many years, I’ve stood in the protection of the forest watching, longing. She is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen with her satiny white coat, long silky mane, and tale.
The humans care for her, brush her and feed her only the sweetest hay in the glen. But, me, I live wild and free in the forest. I nibble grass and weeds. My dark coat doesn’t glisten or shine and I’ve never felt a human touch.
There is something about her that I can’t explain. When the rest of the herd moves south, I stay, year after year. I can’t stand the thought of being so far away from her. And she knows.
Now, with winter approaching, I stand at the edge of the forest and shiver. I watch until the cottage sits cloaked in darkness before I approach the barn like I’ve done hundreds of times before. The sweet smell of hay tickles my nostrils. I stamp my foot and whinny. She answers from within the warmth of her shelter with a high pitch reply. I toss my head and draw closer.
More than anything, I want to be inside the warm barn nuzzling against her softness. I edge my way to the corral where she’s spent countless hours frolicking. There has to be a way in.
I trot back to the barn door. Determination rises inside and I have to give it a try. I back up and run at full speed and slam into the door with all my strength and a loud bang.
Instantly, lights appear in the cottage windows and the back door swings open. “Who’s there?” calls the human.
I shrink into the shadows and shake my head. I wait. Once again the cottage falls silent in the darkness.
Back at the barn, I paw at the wood. She answers with a soft nicker.
What? Did she say there is a back way in? I lose no time galloping to the north side of the corral. She is right. A stallion like me can easily clear that fence. I back up and run at a full gallop, clearing the fence and coming to a skidding stop. Satin meanders out of the barn, prancing and pawing the ground.
My heart races. I am in. I am with her, my dream, my love.
She tosses her long white mane and beckons me to follow. Ah, the sweet smell of fresh alfalfa. I blow out a long sigh, nicker and join her.
I haven’t considered the human in my need to be with her. Early the next morning, I lift my head, alert, as the barn door slides open.
“What in tarnation?” The human exclaims. “I’ve had horses break out, but never in my life have I had a horse break in.”
He approaches. “Good boy,” he says. He reaches out to touch me and I back away. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
Satin lays her soft white head across my thick neck and nickers at her human. “Yes, I see, Satin. I see this is your friend. We’ll call him Cinders.”
The End
And the moral to this story is never give up on your dream and every Satin needs a Cinders.
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