By Crow Skyler © 2004
Life had been simple, then.
Black fur, black muscles, working like pistons underneath his skinny legs, a billowing black mane flying into his face. They had known a salvation, a freedom, and a creed; between them there were no secrets. He had thrown his mouth open and had tasted the island, the sea. They had explored, had talked without mouths, had said everything without even locking eyes.
Life had been simple, then.
Survival had been the goal, but they'd done more than that by the end. They had known adrenaline and seaweed, him getting scrawnier and the horse's coat glowing like hot coal. There were endless days and shorter nights, there, on that island. It had been better than Arabia, better than New York; better than the many locations he and his horse had traveled to.
Life had been simple, then, and it was the island that Alec remembered when life slipped from between his fingers. He didn't remember his wife, or his children; he remembered his stallion and the way the water had crashed over the rocks.
Once he had wanted to tell his children about the Black, but in the end had hoarded it all up and had written it down for himself. Selfish and jealous of the words glistening in ink, which in the lamplight was like his horse's very mane; silken, glistening and long. His wife had once teased him for his handwriting, which was exaggerative, but Alec saw that in the end—it was like his favorite companion.
Perhaps he should have been embarrassed or distressed that when the darkness came, he didn't remember his wife. But someone had stolen his heart, his candle, before she had come along. She'd never had the chance, and when they'd locked eyes, he had seen the sorrow there. Somehow, she had known that she would be a constant second, and still she continued to love him.
Life had been complex, then.
No more adventures, no more gunshots and wild sunsets. Alec felt the Arabian breeze on his face as his wife's anxious face faded away, heard his horse call to him over a bridge.
For a second time, the Black stole him from her, and this time it was permanent.