New fiction from NER 40.2
n the small pasture, one horse lay on the ground and the other stood beside it, unmoving, the day just beginning to warm. Later they would run circles in the dirt and buck, kicking up their legs, thrilling, it seemed, to be themselves on that clear afternoon. In adjoining fields, the raspberry vetch bloomed raspberry; Eastern bluebirds paused on fence posts. The sleeping horse slept, until it did not; the sky pinned up translucent clouds, mottling the blue until sunset, a swath of orange-red shifting to magenta, violet, indigo. Night cooled. By then the horses were in the barn. Beyond the far fence, Holsteins dozed upright by the cracked paved road.
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