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Nebel
by
Gail Folkins
I step from Georg’s car to the
barnyard and inhale Swiss fog. Georg, husband of a co-worker and
an avid horseman, wants to take me on a winter ride. While I’ve
been avoiding the riding instructor for a few weeks, he’s tired
of sitting inside and avoiding Nebel, a Swiss cloud cover
that blankets the mountains and takes the blame at work for bad
moods. It’s been this way for a month or so: overcast skies, a
heavy workload, and German words that don’t come fast enough.
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Not Willing To Fall
by
Julie Sabin
Imagine how it would
feel to be lanced by a knight’s sword in the heat of battle. Not
just once, but over and over again. I don’t have to imagine. The
stabbing pain ripping through my legs, hips and lower back gives
me a pretty good idea.
Fifteen minutes ago, I got into
my car and my husband questioned my sanity. “Are you crazy? Do
you really think it’s a good idea to go there in your
condition?” But my mind was made up. Only death could keep me
away.
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Horse Breeding, Vegas Style
by
Michelle Eames
When I was
five-months pregnant, and using rubber bands to connect my
riding breeches’ snaps over my bulging belly, I decided to breed
my Appaloosa mare, Kissi. The plan was a guaranteed money-maker,
or at the very least would provide me with my next dressage
horse; plus it would give Kissi something to do while I was
pregnant and dealing with a young baby.
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Autumn of Horses
...a true story
by
Annie Kassof
As the mist lifts into the trees on the hilly
trail I squeeze Miss Phoebe's round sides gently with my
almost-muscular legs. If she tries to slow her forward gait I
squeeze harder, for when you ride a horse you have to be in
charge. The animal below you knows if you aren't.
I breathe in the dewy air as we bump down a
slope. I smile somewhat smugly when I greet several late
afternoon hikers. I feel content, eagerly anticipating more and
more horseback riding (or pony-back riding, since Miss Phoebe is
actually a pony), as Summer eases into Fall.
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