I tried to give her away today. Luna who has been my steed since I was 14, the chestnut mare with the flaxen mane. There is a classified add with her description. I want feel my hands on her neck. Back when horses were sensual and kind, back when ecstasy was feeling wind on your face.
There is an email in my inbox with her picture in it and a question mark. An arching, aching, question mark. She is your only animal, and all you want is to be good to her. Someday, someone will love her more than me.
I want to move to Peperell, milk goats, and cook myself dinner every night. That was summer. That was Luna. That was galloping up the hill and having to walk her back because she came up lame. I felt myself on her back and saw the earth as it was, and can be no more. No one is as tall as when they are on horseback.
And when you ask me if I will miss it, I can only say yes, I will miss those memories. But knowing that Luna is eating grass in a field and galloping happily in the woods, is the best consolance that can be given to me.
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