The Warhorse (A Phototale)

Left to instinct, the warhorse didn’t walk toward the mud… the blood… the smoke and scattered footprints of ghosts chasing ghosts. Instead, he started back to the fields… to the greenwood and glens… because like all creatures, he knew the way home despite the reins and whippings he’d been forced to endure. And he didn’t hurry… or worry… or want. As rain spattered down to begin washing away the blood and mud and other echoes of madness, he simply walked as he’d always done, and the wind didn’t remember the sound of cannon fire as ever having existed.

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One thought on “The Warhorse (A Phototale)

  1. First of all I want to say fantastic blog! I had a quick question that I’d like to ask if you don’t mind. I was interested to find out how you center yourself and clear your mind before writing. I’ve had trouble clearing my mind in getting my ideas out. I do enjoy writing however it just seems like the first 10 to 15 minutes are wasted just trying to figure out how to begin. Any suggestions or hints? Thanks!

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