The Woods

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The horse came back alone. I tried to warn my husband not go out into those woods, but he still went. Took his sword. Took his pride.

Didn’t take his brain.

Should I send more men out to get him? I know they’d do it. They would do it for me in a heartbeat. My husband was popular with them. Rowdy and rough, and kind all the same to their sons. But they would get lost, too. There was only one way to end all of their madness. All of the wondering. All of the casual instances of looking at me, wondering where I’d end up without my husband to guide me or help me take care of the farm. Nothing but to go into the forest and try to find him myself.

But I’m no fighter. I don’t know how to use a sword or an axe or cook squirrel or anything like that. I can’t do it. I can’t do it alone. I need someone to go with me. Should I have the horse come with me? Would I even think of eating the horse if I had the chance? This darkness this night is going to close in on me and trap me. Am I going to think of this down the line, when I have to look at myself and ask myself, “Should you really have done that? Should you really have gone into a forest that your husband didn’t come out from?”

I stare into my mare’s eyes. “Would you run away?”

Brown flicks her ear. She doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation. As it should be. She would be a horse. She would do what she wanted, or what I wanted, if it was convenient.

It’s raining now. I’m wasting time like this.

I’ll grab my cloak, get my lantern.

And I’ll get him back.

Hey, everybody. Thanks for reading to the end. This is another freewrite-inspired flash fiction piece from May.

We’re getting down to the wire here, folks. Next week will be the 52nd Flash Fiction Friday piece. How about that?

It’s been an amazing ride. Hope to finish it with you next Friday.


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