Tuesday, October 19, 2010

292. The riderless horse


Silently, the tear squeezed from her eye down her granite cheek. Janine saw Matt, not the football. She saw his agile leap high above his opponent, taking the mark. In her mind’s eye, she saw the play-on and the run-around into the open goal.

Then, into view swam his boot backwards in the stirrup, the rider-less horse following the casket, the ranks of fellow soldiers stepping, in line, behind. Her face cracked only when her mind replayed the arrival of the sombre Fairlane, and she watched her own black-shawled head step onto the carpet.

Her stony face dissolved, her fiercely erect backbone became as jelly. She collapsed onto the lawn, berating its perfection with her clenched fists. All she had was loss. He was lost to her. The Blackhawk was downed in the dark of night, in the muffle of battle. And he was lost to her.

And for what?

7 comments:

Brian Miller said...

wow this one is rife with emotion...and you moved us quick but lost none of the feeling...nice.

Julie said...

This resonates with me today of all days, Brian. Today, for the first time, the Australian parliament in Canberra will debate our commitment of troops to the war in Afghanistan. This was heavily on my mind as I wrote this piece last night.

I thank you for reading and for your response.

Anonymous said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Brian Miller said...

nice glad to know the motivation...

Joan Elizabeth said...

Yes I twigged to the motivation and liked the pen portrait of the the power of grief.

Not sure about Afghanistan ... I am glad they are not sending conscripts to this one.

Julie said...

What I find interesting is my brain processes in this one. The photo was just a random shot when I toured Victoria Barracks. I liked the lone ball on the tennis court. When I embiggened, I realised that it was upsidedown. ANd here comes the human brain bit ... the upsidedownwriting took me to that horse at JFK's funeral that young John-John saluted ... then to the debate scheduled for the following day in Canberra. Wierd eh? I then had to google the 'riderless horse' ... and the riff went from there.

That is why each one of these can be so draining ... I guess.

Joan Elizabeth said...

It's what makes each piece of writing unique and an adventure. Pulling together all the bits of pieces and making something new and creative. That's what I love about creative writing but I simply cannot do any of it at the moment. I use up what meagre energy I have left after work for photography and blogging.

I love cutting first drafts (even of boring things like brochures and web pages) but they suck up all of my life energy so I fully understanding the draining comment.