One of Four

White sun was beating on a plain that was cracked like a jig-saw puzzle made of scorched dirt. Deep down between the bone-dry walls of the cracks, grass cowered in shadow and sucked on the last beads of lingering dew.

At noon, unshod hooves rang on the stone-hard soil. A black horse was galloping over the plain, salty dust devils in his wake. As the big stallion rode, every single leave of the oh-so-hidden grass was pulled off its roots, and a force as invisible as it was unrelenting weaved the floating shreds of green into the horse’s mane.

That was the last blow. The plain was gone for good. The black beast barred its big yellow teeth and whinnied a laugh. Finally he could join the rest of his herd and leave this forgotten world.

The painting reproduction used as a feature image and the source of inspiration for this particular scribble is a work of the Czech pop-surrealist artist Jan Kottman who has kindly let me use it here. For more information on Jan and his paintings, please visit his web – you sure won’t regret if you liked this one.

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