Excerpt

     A distant horse is grazing in a field beneath a stand of oaks. I can’t tell much about her from her silhouette. Soon I have skipped on by dried out thistles growing near an overflowing creek. I hop over a couple of slabs of concrete that appear to be remnants from an old basement, and I am at the edge of the pasture. Horse watches me and I gaze back. She is covered with mud from head to tail. It’s impossible to tell what color she is beneath all that dried brown muck.

     I hold out an apple and wave it in the air so she will get the scent. “Here, girl,” I call, hoping I’ve got her gender right. She eyes me suspiciously, puts her head down, and grazes on the spring grass. I can’t blame her. It is lovely and green where she is standing. But I’ve risked my life from death by snake and death by car and death by thistle for this moment, and the least she could do is show appreciation. Besides, she will love these apples. I manage to crawl under the barbed wire, but my sweatshirt gets caught and I can't easily free it. Not good. I had no idea how mean barbed wire actually is. I tug myself free ripping my sweatshirt in the process.