Horses

I'm reading Cormac McCarthy border trilogy now. Guess I've got horses on the brain. No, in the brain. Wild horses. My brain is overrun with feral, skittery horses. Lots and lots of time spent taming and training them. There are horses who've been there my whole life and are still ornery old bastards, but mellowing out with time. Then there are horses who come in, raise shit, and finally get chased out by the others. Some horses wander in and settle down right away - have a calming effect on all the others. It's a crazy herd, all right. On a good day, when they're all harnessed up, they can pull me with the force of a jet engine, anywhere I want to go. But a freak storm makes 'em bolt, frantic, pulling in a thousand different directions, and then it's sheer hell to bring them each home, calm them, talk them down. There were a few forks of lightning on Friday night and my herd scattered like bats out of hell. Just reigning them back in now, one by one.

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