I woke up twisted in my blankets and full of anguish.
I was riding a fast white horse bareback with my long hair flowing wild behind me. as the plains were flying by, a teenage boy—the son of someone important—stepped out with an ax and struck the horse down.
we tumbled and I rolled to a stop and saw the horse's body disappear before my eyes, leaving long elegant bones but for the head whose flesh remained. The boy had gone. With tremendous grief I gathered up its bones—especially the broken shin—for the long walk alone to demand justice at the court house.