Chalky sand coats the cracked desert Chagrined. Hard rain breaks the surface and leaks into cracks. The land becomes paste. It dries under burning sun and stretches, bright white, into the distance. The sun sets pink and rises yellow: Pallor.
A soul wanders, footfalls in the cracks, head down searching.
“Where am I?” Miss Emeline Traveler asks, in a rare moment of confusion. “This is not what I expected.”
The wandering souls pass each other unseeing. They don’t see the others who share their plight. The ribs of the horses show. The herds walk slowly toward the rapidly drying lakes. Rainfall soaks them. Manes and tails drag through the white mud so they look like ghosts. Sparse grasses beat by rain flatten against the chalky soil and cling.
Miss Emeline wisely grabs the mane of a passing horse and holds tight. The mare will find the way and lead her out. Emeline walks beside Caballo Fantasma stroking her long wet mane.
The capitol of Chagrined is Disappointment. It is a watering hole where the horses go, heads down and defeated. It is not an oasis. The grasses are sparse. But there is a little water here, chalky, thin muddy and a little browse. Pale, yellow-green scraggly. The horses lead one out of the dry landscape of chagrined walking into the sunrise or the sunset. A herd of them, a long line and eventually arrive here where the lake pools. There are tents, pale yellow creme yurts. They are arranged to the side of the lake. There is a little shelter from the sun, but they are hot within and the only food is dried fruits, prickly pears, small oily nuts, and fried cactus. The ghost horses live here and the herd leader talks. He says something, you expect some insight but it is a riddle and has little meaning to you. You want to know what it is, but expect it is nothing. You look up at the sun and all around wondering which way to go knowing you must cross this arid land again to get away. There is no obvious way out and no ready companion. You pass by skeletons and horns. Many animals have wasted away here under the sun and their bones have been bleached by the sun.
What is this? Emotion 365: Every Day a New Land of Emotion
“Where am I?” Miss Emeline Traveler asks, in a rare moment of confusion. “This is not what I expected.”
The wandering souls pass each other unseeing. They don’t see the others who share their plight. The ribs of the horses show. The herds walk slowly toward the rapidly drying lakes. Rainfall soaks them. Manes and tails drag through the white mud so they look like ghosts. Sparse grasses beat by rain flatten against the chalky soil and cling.
Miss Emeline wisely grabs the mane of a passing horse and holds tight. The mare will find the way and lead her out. Emeline walks beside Caballo Fantasma stroking her long wet mane.
The capitol of Chagrined is Disappointment. It is a watering hole where the horses go, heads down and defeated. It is not an oasis. The grasses are sparse. But there is a little water here, chalky, thin muddy and a little browse. Pale, yellow-green scraggly. The horses lead one out of the dry landscape of chagrined walking into the sunrise or the sunset. A herd of them, a long line and eventually arrive here where the lake pools. There are tents, pale yellow creme yurts. They are arranged to the side of the lake. There is a little shelter from the sun, but they are hot within and the only food is dried fruits, prickly pears, small oily nuts, and fried cactus. The ghost horses live here and the herd leader talks. He says something, you expect some insight but it is a riddle and has little meaning to you. You want to know what it is, but expect it is nothing. You look up at the sun and all around wondering which way to go knowing you must cross this arid land again to get away. There is no obvious way out and no ready companion. You pass by skeletons and horns. Many animals have wasted away here under the sun and their bones have been bleached by the sun.
What is this? Emotion 365: Every Day a New Land of Emotion
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