Luke's heart lept as the mare carried him over the fallen log. He couldn't exhale until all four hooves met the muddy ground on the other side. It rose from his lips in a mist against the frigid air. His hand reached for her withers and scratched the small white patch above her left shoulder.
Her stride fell back into a steady three-beat gait. The ground between her and the narrow ditch eaten in two strides. Her nostrils dilated and her stride paused.
Luke sat up and wrapped his legs tighter around her sides. His breath caught in his chest. He snatched his lower lip between his teeth and focused on the ground beyond the roughly dug trench. His fingers instinctively wrapped around her two-toned mane. He closed his eyes.
The muscles underneath him bunched. He tensed for a refusal. The mare's sides expanded with an audible intake of air. Luke scrambled to stay on as the mare soared two feet higher than she needed to. The landing rattled his bones, but couldn't wipe the jubilation from his face.
She's ready.
He patted and stroked her absentmindedly. His mind was full of ideas and visions of the black and white mare parading around the arena. He let the reins slacken and encouraged the horse to stretch.
The small boggy paddock, with its homemade ditches and fallen log obstacles, glitched. Luke pulled the mare into a stop and screwed up his eyes. The narrow fence had vanished. He scanned the small paddock, twisting in his saddle and spinning the horse to take in all four corners. Over in the far corner, a glint of blue. The reclaimed plastic barrel had relocated into the wettest corner.
Unable to take his eyes from it, he walked the horse over to it on a loose rein. His elation converted to uncertainty as the ground either side of it showed no sign of hoofprints.
We jumped that, I swear we did.
Overhead, a raven crowed. Luke jumped. His eyes scanned the sky and thick trees but nothing stirred. He nudged the horse forward. As his hand closed on the gate latch the bird shrieked a second time. He whirled around and almost fell from the saddle. The blue barrel was back in the correct position.
"Time for us to go I think before Melody has time to worry." Luke hurried the mare through the gate and let it go. He focused on his hands, not wanting to see his brain's trickery.
Should have had breakfast, or something to eat. The starved brain is a crazy one.
His hands trembled as he removed the bridle. Steam rose from the bucket in delicate whirls. The warm water was a relief on his chilled fingers as he sponged the worst of the mud and sweat from Queenie's coat.
"When do you think this perpetual winter will end?" Luke threw the rug over the mare's back. He laughed as she snorted. "Yeah, I feel the same way." He pulled the knot from the lead rope and led her from the small barn.
The morning sun hung low in the sky, her colours muted by the frost and freezing fog. Short grass crackled underfoot as the pair made their way to the paddock in front of the kitchen window. Luke struggled to get his gloves on as his fingers froze.
Luke kicked the gate. The ice that had welded the lock gave way and the gate swung open effortlessly. His boots plunged through the inch thick layer above the mud, allowing a swell of coldness to envelope his feet. He pulled his way through the sticky, semi-frozen ground to a small island of grass.
Queenie looked at him for a moment, the headcollar freshly removed from her head, and sighed. Her nose worked over his pockets but the tell-tale tang of mint remained absent. She lowered her head and sauntered off to the small shelter.
YOU ARE READING
Glitch #ONC
Science FictionIn a world where people are sorted by their genetic aptitude, Luke is left asking some serious questions. Why is he plagued by bad luck and why do the electrical appliances misbehave? During an unlucky spell he passes through a wormhole, into a real...