Writing Prompt

Horses in the storm Ran away

The horse became restless they felt some thing Trampling on the ground their feet trotting. Rumbling in distance of thunder and rain. Premonition of something happening in the air. The air aura of silence in this room and in the darkness of the night. Emotions run deep and high and the sky is full with tears

The horses in the stable went wild; they knew of the coming storm. After months of the same routines with the same noises and smells, the twenty horses spread down the alley knew exactly what was in store for them. Their bodies reacted to the stimulation around them before their minds could find any sort of rationalization or recognition of what was about to happen. The pawing of hooves and the chorus of nickers spread down the alley as more and more of the herd recognized what was to come. The Storm the humans called it. To the horses, it was just another work day, another chance to do what their bodies pulsed to do above all else. There's something special about the heart of a racehorse. A true winner has a special vibration through their core when it comes to race day. And it was palpable in the rows of stalls today. As the jockeys and trainers and owners hurried around to make final preparations, it became increasingly difficult for the horses to contain their energy. There was nothing like the feeling of being able to stretch your legs further than you thought was ever possible before you felt the adrenaline of a race day. As they strutted past the crowds doing their warm-up laps, everyone's pulses - horse and human alike - were beating so fast and so hard you could practically feel the earth shake beneath their feet. The call was made over the loudspeakers and the athletes began their parade to the track. The deafening noise from the warm-up area was muted as they entered the tunnel to pass under the grandstands and enter the race track; the final moment of the closest thing they could find to calm before the greatest storm of their career. The final preparations were made and horses with their jockeys were led into the starting gate. 20 gates clicked shut. 20 horses huffed with anticipation. 20 jockeys secured their goggles. 40 hearts raced with anticipation. Everything around them slowed down as everyone on the track and in the grandstands took a collective and final deep breath. As everyone's lungs filled with air with an eerie momentarily falling over the anxious audience, the buzzer went off and the gates flew open. With that, the crowds erupted with cheers and they were off. The storm of hooves and dirt and racing hearts hit them like a category 5 hurricane. The kind of storm you can't look away from while it steals the air from your lungs. For 10 furlongs, horse and rider faced it all together. The push and the pull of the fury of wind and waves of earth-quaking hoof falls swooped through Churchill Downs. The most beautiful storm you ever did see and the best seat in the house was on the backs of the animal athletes who would run until their hearts burst if the jockeys allowed it. The only storm anyone in Kentucky ever prayed for and one that came but once a year. To the horses, it was just another day of working the job they love. They lived for the storm they created.

The horses in the stable went wild; they knew of the coming storm.

The cops came for my mama that day, dragging her away in rusted handcuffs that seemed too tight.

"Don't worry," she told me with a kiss to my forehead.

"I'll get an appeal," she told me.

I didn't know what an appeal was back then and I didn't know now. All I knew was that mama didn't get one.

The cops told me mama was taken for manslaughter. I think they told me the definition, but as a kid the ripe age of 9 and 3 quarters with ADHD, I forgot.

All I knew was that mama was gone. After that, I went through cousins, aunts, uncles, and foster homes like they were underwear.

Three months later, the cops were back again.

Not with mama. They came back with news.

A prison riot. The funeral would be in two days.

What a way to spend your tenth birthday.

And 8 years later, nothing had changed.

Mama lived in the cemetery by our old farm with Meme, Papa, Daddy, and my younger sister June.

And Johnny Jackson was without a family.

There was a word for it, a lucid dreamer, someone who can navigate the sea of dreams. Faster and faster the carriage raced. Lightning flashed. The horses screams as she yanked on the reins. Rounding a curve, she careened over the edge and fell down forever. She reached up for that word. it escaped. Still wrestling with the vestiges of a dream, Jasmine fought the morning. As a farmer’s daughter she couldn’t fight for long. With a groan, Jasmine flung her sweat soaked bedding away. Her bare feet slapped against her childhood bedroom floor. For a moment she was nine years old ready to do chores before grammar school then she blinked into a thirty-nine divorcè. A loud neigh from the stables shook her.

standing, she went for her barn boots. Petrichor scented the air. The room swam and Jasmine slammed into the floor. Stunned, she lay still. Since the pandemic there was no chance of extra farm hands. In fact she hadn’t seen a neighbor or even a passing car in weeks. Wavering she climbed onto her hands and knees.

”Jazzy, you okay?”

Her mama’s voice coming up the staircase shook Jasmine’s awake. More loud braying and stomping, the horses were still going wild. she shoved her feet into her boots. On jelly legs, Jasmine stumbled down the stairs. shrugging into her flannels Jasmine lumbered into the kitchen.  potatoes and onions fried in bacon grease hung in the air. Jasmine swayed and steadied herself on the kitchen door jam. Jody and her heights over the years were scratched into the old frame along with her father’s and his father’s. Dorie and Alex looked up at her entrance. Dorie turned from the cast iron skillet and hurried towards her daughter. outside thunder rumbled. “goddamn it Dorie! Quit babying that girl. That’s why she fucks up everything she touches,” Alex shouted, pounding his fork on the kitchen table.  Dorie and Jasmine froze, waiting for him to stop. Taking in her daughter’s flushed features and red rimmed eyes, fear chilled Dorie’s heart. Covering her mouth with a trembling hand, Dorie turned back to the stove. Jasmine lurched towards the back door heading across the dying pasture for stable. Outraged, Alex maneuvered his wheelchair in jerky motions.  “check those damn horses. This is not some kind of vacation. Your mother and I worked our fingers to the bone for your lazy ass. If your brother was still here.”

her father’s voice prodded her back with every step. Rain threatened under petulant clouds. Grass blades waved and rippled. Thunder clashed in the stable. Jasmine drove into the cool grassy waves. Saltwater stung her eyes. One of the horses kicked open its stall. A fork tongued satyr screamed something from the shore. Leathery tentacles reached for her silver tail. Jasmine darted away from danger.

A winged stallion soared overhead. Jasmine broke the surface to watch the entire herd take to the air. Another shout further away pulled at Jasmine. She knew she should turn and swim back. But without looking back, Jasmine the Oneironaut swam away free.

They knew it was coming. And they wanted to get away from it. The storm wasn’t even on the radar, yet every horse in the barn knew. Even the mousing cats and barn sparrows knew it was coming. The humans would notice eventually, whether by light showers or being bucked off into the mud. The storm was coming. Thunder would crash and lightning would strike. The horses knew, and they foresaw the dangerous storm heading this way.

(I did a longer story for the competition if you want to go read that!!)

We were out for a walk with the two humans riding us. There normal talkitve chatter was replaced with a dark somber quiet. The humans have gone quiet before be they were content with the quiet. Now they were definitely not. They had this invisible cloud over them that smelt of metal and salt. It felt jagged,cold ,and sharp. I cloud was darkening quickly I could feel the female tighten her figure. I winniied out to the other horse accompanying us warning her of the humans storm that was quickly developing. We had been threw this many a time. This couple would have a monsoon of emotion then they would work it out and every thing would feel like strawberrys and vinilla cake. This time it felt different. Me and the hores in front of me decided to turn around cause we would hate to get I between these spats. When we finally got back to the stable and they left, that was the last time we saw those two together again.

“What’s all the noise in the stable about?” My mother, the owner of this farm said. She pointed toward the direction of the stable.

“I’ll go check” I uttered to my mother, and then I ran to the stable. The stable was mostly fine except for the horses, they have went wild and I has no idea why. It’s strange, the horses were usually quiet and chill.

“How troubling, I’m certain they wouldn’t stop unless I do something” I went to the storage and equipped my whip, the horses bellowed as I fiercely hit them with it. Soon they’ve gone quiet, and I hope they stay quiet. After I’m done with the job, I saw my mother gesturing for me to go back.

“Hey, did you find out why they’ve been making the noises?” My mother asked me as she no longer hears the voices of the horses.

“No mother, but I made them quiet” I told her what I did, and that the horses were unwilling to stay quiet.

“I heard rumors that some animals can sense the storm coming, how about you go check the weather broadcast while I go for a walk?” My mother ordered me as she left the barn.

“Mother, there’s no need to do so, it’s just rumors” I tried to persuade her as I’m not familiar with the technology stuffs and I don’t like dealing with them. But a horse abruptly interrupted our conversation and darted around the place, we stared at the direction of the stable and what we saw baffled us. A storm, a big one, one big enough to destroy the whole place. We instantly ride on the back of the horse and left without our valuables. I still do regret not listening to my mother, perhaps if I do so, we could’ve bring a few valuables with us.

The horses in the stable went wild; they knew of the coming storm. They were pacing nervously at first, but soon enough they started rearing up and neighing vigorously. There was something in the air as dusk drew near. You could almost smell it in the acrid scent of the earth and the grass. But no one was paying attention to the stables or to the horses. The house was alight with joy and comfort this New Year’s Eve, people enjoying each other’s company and food, the chit-chat echoing the clinking and tinkling of cutlery and plates. But none of this could placate Jessie’s strange sense of uneasiness, as she stared helplessly at the last specks of red streaking the horizon, elbows on the porch railing. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she knew something was amiss. Darkness was fast approaching and she felt a sudden sense of dread as gust of chilly wind messed her long black hair. “Jessie! There you are! Come back inside, the karaoke is about to start!” “Yesssss mom, but I will record you and dad this time, no excuses!” “We’ll see, we’ll see…” As she turned around to close the door, she glanced at the sky again; it was dark just enough now for the realisation to sink deep: somehow, she knew that this last day of the year was going to be the last day she would spend with her family.

The horses in the stable went wild; they knew of the coming storm.

She had threatened to do it the last time they met: the Desert Witch would be paid one way or the other. Brock looked toward the horizon at the gathering dark and malevolent clouds.

“I demand payment!” she had shrieked. He had gambled and lost and it was time to deliver.

Brock looked down at the child holding his hand.

“What are you so sad about, Mr. Brock?” Angela asked.

Brock had to find the words to tell the child that she was being delivered as tribute to the Desert Witch.

But he couldn’t do it. Let the Witch do her worst.

“Let’s get the town folk together,” he said. “We’ve got people to protect.”