Journey to a Past Life (half marathon #8)

I closed my eyes, entering all the colors of the rainbow and drifted into thirteen.

Thirteen…

Thirteen…

Thirteen…

I am moving at great speed through a forest. The head of a daunting black horse bobs in front of me. My hands hold its leather straps and I feel its galops between my legs. I don’t know why, but I adore this horse and fear for both of our lives. My vibrant hair flies backwards. It’s red-brown length catch the colors in the sun and melt into the shades of the surrounding trees. Pine, jade, yellow, orange, red brown leaves. I rush past branches and see the early morning sun franticly searching for me. My light chest matches the horse’s heavy gallope.My chest gallopes. Hot breath. Sweat. Wild heart inside my chest. My eyes are lost in the green. They spot the white line too late. A quick white line is drawn from the treetops down to my body below. I am struck. Stone or wood or steel or obsidian pierces through my skin, fat, and muscle. My wild heart explodes as the arrow finds its way home. I fall, blood kissing the forest ground, and the horse still gallops to thirteen…

Thirteen…

Thirteen…

Thirteen…

I come back to life.

 

 

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