A Tale Of Two Horses, Act 5.
A tale of Two Horses.
Part 5.
By Jackson Taylor (Wolfie Steel) and Drafty the Suffolk Punch.
I smile at Drafty as I make my way out from the pub, so now I know who he is and he knows who I am, the dirty voyeuristic Stallion that has been watching him these past few days. It is fortunate for me that my revelation seems to have knocked the wind from his sails as he just stands there in shock, well finding out that you have another guy watching your every move is going to be a real big hit for him to take.
I use his shocked state to good advantage and I head out from the pub pretty briskly, once outside my smile vanishes and depression reasserts itself again because I know that now he knows about me there will be no more impromptu strip shows, or wanking shows for me to feast on, and I know that I have just blown any chance of getting to know Drafty any better to smithereens.
As I walk away from the music of the pub I begin to hear the flowing water of the river nearby, it is the river Sable, named after Sir Richard Sable who was the first guy to settle in the village way back in 1756, there is also a bridge that is called Sable's bridge that spans the river and joins our village of Taine with the smaller village of Swallow, years ago it was the only way to travel between the two villages, of course now there is a main road that connects the two villages to all the main towns and cities.
The bridge itself has had a lot of local morbid history, it has been the place where many of the inhabitants of both villages have come to end their lives, most of those lives have been saved but there have been a few successful suicides, of course now the village council have erected railings on the top of the bridge walls to stop folks from climbing up onto them and jumping off, but if you know how to get around those, you can still end your own miserable existence.
My mind set now is one of a kind of loss and desperation, if only I hadn't made Drafty aware that I knew where he worked, he would then not have asked me where I worked, and then I would also have not given the game away.
I begin to head towards the bridge, I know of places on the bridge walls that aren't covered totally by the safety rails, these holes also allow access to the tow path that runs alongside the river. As I approach the bridge the sound of the fast flowing river fills my ears, I walk onto the bridge and then I walk over to the side, I rest my arms against the safety rails and then rest my head against my arms.
I begin to sob harder as I replay the recent conversation between Drafty and I, how could I have been so stupid? I may as well have just put up a flashing neon sign with an arrow pointing at me saying "Watch your backs guys; we got us a gay hoss in our midst".
As it is though I know now that Drafty would never let me get close to him, I have seen the way that April the barmaid is trying every trick in her book to get her cunt filled with what I am sure is a very large and very sweet cock that Drafty is packing, and remember, I have seen the goods from my window, I guess in my case it is so near yet so far away.
I move to one of the gaps in the railings, I breathe in as much as I can so that I can slip through the gap, in my now fragile state of mind it doesn't register to me that I have caught myself on one of the sharp edges of the railings thus leaving behind a tuft of my black fur.
I finally get through the gap and allow myself to slide down to the tow path, I am now just inches away from the edge of the river, I could do so much good for the village if I just allowed myself to fall into the water and allow my body to be washed away, no one would miss me, and I wouldn't have the pain of having my legs and arms broken by Drafty.
Oh sure I know that it is said that it is the cowards way out but right at this moment I couldn't give a fuck, without the images of Drafty, I have nothing else to keep me going, there would be one less mouth to feed in the village, the torment from the Deer and Mule would also stop.
Just four steps and a splash, that is all it would take, my heart ache and torment would all come to an end, but there is something stopping me from ending it all, and it is the one thing that I am pretty sure will haunt me for the rest of my life if I decided to live on, Drafty, how would it make him feel if he knew that I ended my days over him? Would he mourn my passing? Would he even give me a second thought?
For now I just sit there, my head buried in my hands, crying for the entire world to hear. I now lean my head back and look up at the stars, again I take a deep breath but this time I let out a huge yell "OH GOD I WANT HIM SO BADLY"
Again I bury my face in my hands and just cry, not afraid to let folks hear my cries. I guess that to many folks I am just a spoilt kid who always cries and screams and throws tantrums when he can't get what he wants, but damn it all to hell, all I want is for one guy to come to me, wrap his arms around me and maybe even love me, I mean come on, is that too much to ask?
I kneel at the edge of the river and stare into the fast flowing water, the slightly misshapen image that stares back at me is one of a badly misunderstood Horse, sure I have made mistakes in my past, but then again who hasn't?
It is true that I don't acknowledge religion, but there is no religion out there who would take guys like me anyway, I don't even have a family to speak of, oh yeah it is true that my paternal sire and dam live in the village of Swallow, but we don't send each other greetings at birthdays and Christmas, to them they lost their foal Jackson at birth, on the odd occasion that I travel to Swallow, if I see them in the main street I am just treated as an outsider, and so when I tell you that I am all alone, I am alone in every sense of the word.
When I die there will be no mournful burial or cremation ceremony, I will most likely just be bundled into a cheap wooden box and then fed into the boiler system of the squires house.
Even though the day has been hot, and the evening has been just as warm, a cold chill flows through my whole body, John the Mule is right, no one likes me in this damn village, well that is not quite true I suppose, April the barmaid kinda puts up with me, but that is part of her job, and until my revelation I guess I could have called Drafty a friend too.
Now though I will never be able to show my face in public again, most certainly the pub is out of the question because I'm pretty sure that by now the whole place knows which way my pendulum swings, oh yes I bet they are all having a right good laugh about it now, I can even hear that bloody Mule's voice in my mind "Ya see, I told ya that boy was strange, now he's a fuckin' tail raiser too, good riddance to bad rubbish I say".
I pull away from the edge of the river and lie on my back on the grass of the tow path, tears still streaming down my face, maybe I will stay here for the night in the hope that while I sleep some kind hearted soul will walk along the tow path and then push me into the river, if not then I guess in the morning I will wake up and head home, I will then lock all of my doors and become a hermit, never going outside again, getting all of my grocery shopping delivered to my door, and in the dark of night I will open my door and take my groceries inside.
I will also board my windows up from the inside, that way I can't have any distractions, I will just sleep, eat, work, eat, and sleep, I will put a sign up on my door simply saying that I will not answer the door to cold callers, in essence my only links to the outside world will be my mobile phone, TV and internet, other than that just call me Billy no mates.
Darkness falls across my mind as I slip into a deep and unloved sleep.
My thanks go to Drafty The Suffolk Punch for his continuing friendship, help and support with the writing of this story.....Trot on bud, trot on.