He had been chasing the silver horse for weeks, but somehow it always managed get away. It was like the horse knew that he was hunting him. What exactly it was about the horse that irritated him so much, he wasn't sure.
Perhaps it was that the horse seemed so confident in his stride, so free, so reluctant, and so resistant to behaving like the rest of the horses?
What made him so damn special that he should act as if the rules of how to behave didn't apply to him, after all, he was just a horse. Boy, that horse really annoyed him.
When the silver horse was around the other horses, they seemed to change. Like his free spiritedness encouraged the others to behave like him. "Well, that's not acceptable", he thought, all the horses had jobs to do, running free was not an option.
Although, sometimes when he had been watching the silver horse gallop across the open fields, there was something beautiful and invigorating about it. One night, after following
the horse through the fields, and the forests, the horse took him up to the top of a mountain. He was hiding in the bushes, trying to get a clear shot, when another horse suddenly appeared. The other horse was black as the night, its coat glistening in the moonlight, and side by side, the silver horse and the black stallion, had made such an impression on him that felt awestruck. He had put down the rifle.
"Well, not this time", he thought, "the silver horse is far too independent and free spirited, he influences the other horses to become difficult to handle, so, he has to go."
The silver horse, standing still with his back turned, suddenly turns his head around and looks straight at him then lets out a loud scream.
The sound of the scream is so unexpected and so filled with pain, that he drops the rifle.
His hands are shaking, his heart pounding, and he can hardly breathe.
"Get yourself together man", he tells himself as bends down to pick up the rifle.
As he checks to see if there is any damage to the rifle, he realises that he is not alone.
He turns around and behind him, stands the silver horse.
The horse looks right at him.
This close to the horse, the horse seems much bigger and there is an air about it.
He carefully slings the rifle over his shoulder then stands absolutely still.
The silver horse walks toward him then stops barely two feet away from him.
The horse is close enough for him to touch.
With eyes locked, for minutes they stare at each other, then as if in a trance, he stretches out his hand and gently strokes the silver horse's muzzle.
The horse lets him.
The minute his fingers feels the softness of the muzzle, something strange happens to him. He feels a connection. Thoughts rush through him, thoughts long forgotten.
He had once been a free spirited, independent, and inquisitive person, but somewhere along the journey of life, he has lost that part of himself.
Looking into the eyes of the silver horse and touching him, it all comes flooding back.
He is at a crossroads.
What happens next is up to you.
What would you do?
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