The Little Colt

I have asked several of you if you would be interested in reading essays and other things that I write in school. So far, everyone has said yes. Thus, today I wrote a (very) short story. (It's only 380 words) However, I thought that you might enjoy reading it.

My assignment was to write a very short story based upon a picture. I chose a picture of two chestnut horses, a mother and a foal and came up with this. Enjoy!

In a lovely green pasture behind a perfectly kept-up red barn on an immaculate racehorse farm lived a little colt. For awhile, the little foal was content to remain beside his mother, enjoying the grooming that he received daily from the grooms, but slowly grew discontent, for though all would say he was pure Thoroughbred, far back in his blood was the heart of an Arabian. When he was nearly three-years-old, the young horse received his first trophy in a race.

As he grew into a fine racehorse, he was treated handsomely and given a pasture to himself. Yet, he did not desire to be alone. Over time, he felt his wild desire to be free grow within him until he could not hold it inside any longer. He was tired of the constant training and racing. He was weary of the grain to keep him energized.

Finally, he decided to flee from this organized life into that of a wild stallion. During the night, he nickered a goodbye to his mother and friends over the fence, and lit out toward the far end of his pasture. As he neared the fence, he let out a shrill neigh and lifted his front legs over it. He landed solidly on the other side and shook his mane. He was free! Nothing could stop him now!

He used his wild Arabian instincts and his Thoroughbred speed to carry himself far from the farm where he had been held prisoner his whole life and sped off into the crisp cool night. For days he traveled, enjoying this newfound life. Those instincts led him safely to water each day and eventually to the company of a herd of lost horses. This little band of mares the stallion took over and led them away from all civilization.

Though his master searched for him for weeks, they never found his carefully picked trail that led him to freedom. And it is free that he lives even today, with no fences to contain him; no grain to fatten him; no training on a track to work his steely muscles. His fence was the horizon; his grain the sweet grass; his training on the rugged countryside with his herd of mares. It was here that he was content.

Reminder: My writing challenge due date is TOMORROW! Shortly thereafter I will post the winners!