Lost Judgement

"Done picking your picks? All good? No complaints?" The rancher clapped his stubby hands, the sound erupting through the stables "Right, very nice!"

Back before I left home for good, I remembered we had five perfectly fine horses living fine in our barn. Each excelled at one thing or another. One for plowing, another for herding, Bueller was the best at hauling the wagons, but Ferdinand was always my favorite. On his back, galloping through the meadows, nothing else could make me feel that invincible.

Really sad not being there to see them go, or to at least say goodbye, even sadder that Dad could find only three to serve as their replacements, buying them back for the same price he sold the five. Apparently, that was the bargain price too…

While they both settled the transaction process over some tea, I figured I may as well have a look-see further down. Judging by the full pitcher sitting on the tray there, this might take a while.