Vagabonds

They say wild horses roam all through the hills around here. I only see one: a red-brown mustang skirting the sagebrush. Behind me, my father’s motorcycle sputters back to life. We eye each other jealously, that horse and I: he on his side of the fence and I on mine.


Sticking with my favorite micro format for the fiction|poetry grid, but settled on 50 words instead of the old 42.  Inspired by this week’s prompt up.

5 thoughts on “Vagabonds

  1. d3athlily says:

    Loved this! I don’t think I have ever seen a wild horse but I imagine it would be as fierce as a motocycle sounds. I’m still trying to write 35
    500word or more stories for this year, otherwise I would totally be doing 50word stories too. Hehe maybe for moonshine I will. ☺

    Like

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