‘The Pale Horse’ by Lesley Ingram

    At twilight she is still sitting with the book in her hand, staring through the window, looking for snow. Have you seen my horse? she says, eyes wild with loss.  I smile, brush her hair.  She purrs. She cups my face.  I know you, she whispers, have you stolen my horse?  I cover her hands with mine and we stare a while, nose … Continue reading ‘The Pale Horse’ by Lesley Ingram