Benjamin assessed the corralled horses, his mind deeply disturbed.

”Who could have done such a dastardly thing,” he mulled over and over. His disturbed mien hardly taking cognizance of the rain that soaked him to the skin.

”It is only three more weeks to the Steeplechase competition and some mean snake got it into his head to contaminate the horses oats, now my best mount Thunder Hoof is down.”

”Could it have been Lucas, my ever envious neighbor?” ”Or that oily tongued land grabber, Max?” He debated.

The answers were not forthcoming. He scratched his head in indecision.

”I need to choose a good horse and very fast too.”

His mind quickly settled on Sun-dance, whose silky white mane swam down his neck like waterfall, and his tail swept carelessly with pride.

He almost stood apart from the rest in confidence and regal posture, with muscles that rippled under his white coat.

It is rumored that his sire is the direct descendant of Crazy Horse, an Apache Warrior’s mount.

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

In response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers