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In silent acquiescence, all that pierced my ear was the throb of my heart. The wind billowing in clouds behind and beneath me, dreaming, not being vigilant, feeling lost, and above, and apart. No sight of man, no sound of man. It was only me and her: a beast carved out of beatific stone, which matched the vigour of one man tenfold. At a neighbouring pastor is where we were acquainted. It was a torrid summer day, this was nothing novel, I was use to the sweltering heat of a Canadian afternoon. I would receive food and drink from the overman of the house, and at a workday's end, a small remittance for my toils. Today's work was mending fences, the fences thereof, were fitted with barbwire. As I peered past the very thing I emended, it gave a glimpse into a gymnasium of equestrian pursuits. It was a garish war-like terrain, flecked with the hooves of a thousand trials and tribulations. My imagination was enthralled, taken, and made buoyant; however, no thoroughbred came to fill those remanent divots. My mind raced on a flamboyant ferris wheel of thoughts. Where were they? Who were they? Why thrudged they? Swooned, to the point of oblivion, the overman let-loose a mighty roar to make me the captive of his words. In them, he asked: "where's your mind at boy?". In a state of recollection, no bits of dialogue came to my avail. "Your wondering where the horses are, aren't you?", he iterated. I let only a nod to slip, making sure to not compromise my already fragile position. Without making one more solitary utterance, he soon ushered me into a nearby stable. I shuttered at the edifice of the stable. Did he notice the absent gill of whiskey from his decanter? Was this a symbol of perdition for my poor labours? There is a queer contagion in the air of farms. Leaves me apprehensive and shell-shocked. When he lifted the latch, and let the main portals release, the smell of feculence rolled thick into clouds around me. Enveloped, by the barn's fetid rank breath, it gave little anxiety to me. The intrigue of the barn supplanted any rise of foulness. The overman proceeded me into the barn. There, glared two fire-forged eyes, out of the despondent air. Their mere visage coagulated my every breathe, It was as if I were swimming in a sea of molasses. The overman brought this mare hitherto me. It rendered the image of an Amazonian plated creature, with immense muscle bellies, and frame, that would move with every uptake of breathe. He handed myself the reins, and spake: " trust her and she'll trust you". I laid a hand upon her snout and analyzed the two amber spheres in front of me. Solace from Tragedy, and simultaneously, power to obliterate. I stirred, I quaked, I loved. Proceeding to mount the mare, I was faced, as an alpinist would, with their countenance raised, onlooking. Putting the first foot into the stirrup, and consecutively the second, was a onerous task. While on top, I felt exalted to new heights with her suspension bridge like spine beneath me. The overman, lead us to the equestrian field. As I gave the first whip, a fire was stoked, and the locomotive sized creature lurched forward. The weight of time was slowly lost to absolution. I nebulized into the wind, became the sun, and the thudding hooves beneath me.