Today is one of those icky where summer is too weak to make itself fully known. Greening stalks of trees pose against a shady gray backdrop. A breeze pushes clouds across the sky and chills the field’s reluctant inhabitants. New growth has sprouted, and the heat wars with the cold of the impending storm. Although it isn’t raining yet, everything is coated with wet sheen
.
Is it needless to say I wish the sun would just come out already?
I shiver against the wind. I’m too wet and miserable to be picky about what exactly is bugging me, but if I’m asked, I’m sure I can come up with a substantial list. Does anybody actually like rainy days? Give me the heat and burn of full summer any day. Even dry winter days are preferable to the yucky feeling of plops of wet rain on my back. It’s like Mother Nature decided to sneeze on her creation.
Despite the weather, I glance around with some interest. It’s rude to stare but I can’t help scanning the scenery and my companions in homelessness alike. There aren’t many. I don’t know much about the field but I’ve heard that it’s a place to find a new home. I suppose the very act of coming here makes me appear desperate but I’d be the first to admit it’s true anyway. I’ve been alone for too long. Will I admit aloud that I need someone? Not on your life.
My story isn’t special or even that interesting. I had a normal childhood, but I left home early with my best friend, hoping for adventure. I was naïve, and very young. As the years passed I realized that although I enjoyed traveling I had no place to call my home. My best friend drifted and my family had since passed away or moved on. The hills of my childhood were rife with the ghosts of my past. I couldn’t go back without the pain in my chest rising.
I can only go forward. And in this case forward has led me here.
By way of looks, I’m not bad off and I make a silent prayer to Isis that no one will approach me just looking for a piece of meat. My body has the slender curves of the Arab and the short, compact strength of the Morgan. I was an accident child, ruining a long line of perfect Arabian blood, but my deep black coloring does my family proud. There isn't a trace of white on me anywhere.
Rain begins to drizzle. I sigh, and resign myself to an uncomfortable afternoon.
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