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Farrier Log: January 7th, 2012 (Hooves)
Farrier Log: January 7th, 2012
I must be forgiven, I don't remember most of today. I remember writing last night, but I do not remember going to sleep. My memory of today starts at around 3Pm this afternoon. It seems like my mind "turned on" at about that time. It was like drinking top much, and blacking out completely, except when you awaken your trembling instead of hung over. Then,
instead of waking up in a bed, you wake up walking back to your truck. I don't remember much more then walking from the stables to my truck, heading home, and taking a nap. I just woke up about ten minutes ago. There's a voicemail on my phone,
it's 8:12 Pm. Shannon went home this mourning from her two night stay. She had to feed her fish and take care of her house. I've listened to the voicemail on the phone, it was Mr. Maitreya, he was thanking me and letting me know I did a great job. I did a great job? How did I manage to put shoes on all three horses without remembering any of it? My next appointment
Farrier Log: January 6, 2012 (Hooves)
Farrier Log: January 6, 2012
Her eyes still seem like pools of motor oil, the kind that sits in the corner of an old garage. Everything went alright today, I guess. I was at the Sargent's farm for now, another client of mine. I had to put fronts on his old painter, had an abscess but it was easily dug from the hoof. Kept it purely non-invasive. I saw an article online about a suicide bombing in Damascus, Syria today. Twenty-six people were killed, and over sixty were injured. Apparently a few of the bodies were untraceable afterward. I've been listening to the news more carefully now-a-days, you know with all these rumours of the end time and all. Always alternative news sources, since our news stations, tend to sell shit. Anyway, Damascus caught my attention because a really original forging technique was born there. I'm not looking forward to going back to that mansion tommorow, but I can't let my reputation fall to hell. I need to figure out what happened to Shannon's eye color.
Farrier log: January 5th, 2012 (Hooves)
Farrier log: January 5th, 2012
Last night was good for the first half of it. Lots of lovemaking, sitting by the
fire and smoking pot with Shannon. We fell asleep at around 1:00 AM. Once
again the phone rang at 3:00am, waking us both up. I picked up the phone and
told Shannon to go back to sleep, but she's the type to be weirded out by any
phone call at 3 am. It was Mr. Maitreya, he wanted to know why I came but never got the job done. I insisted I was sick this mourning and couldn't get out of bed. With a long eyrie silence, I swear I heard him whisper something along the lines of "little sinner"
into the phone just before he mentioned the tire tracks my truck left behind. I told him
they weren't my tracks, and that somebody must have come down to his farm yesterday.
He demanded I have the job done, tomorrow or he would give me bad reviews on some
top horse-owner website. I said that was fine and he abruptly hung up on me. The nightmares came back so me and Shannon were up all night. I
Farrier Log: January 4th, 2012 (Hooves)
Farrier Log: January 4th 2012
Last night I received a business call at exactly 3:00 AM. It was somebody who found one
of my business cards in a chinese food restaurant. His name is Mr. Maitreya, what would strike
him to call so late is over my head. I was awake then anyway so I accepted the business call. You know how the winters are on the money, the feet stop growing and the coats get longer. Mr. Maitreya told me he had three horses, all draft studs. He named them after some horses in the bible. I'm not a religious man, myself so I paid it no second mind. I told him this was fine and I could be there in the mourning to meet the horses and give them their trims. He told me that sounded great and he would be at work. He'd leave the check hanging in the barn. I have been awake since then. I couldn't get back to sleep, every time I fell asleep I'd awaken minutes later of terrifying nightmares. I never get nightmares, at least not one's that actually scare me. I sure hope I don't suffer f
Next in lineSuns pass moons yet again
Ages go with every step
I always knew one day I'd see the sun
The fate I'd hate to see someone
Load their soul into the gun
Sadly she's the green eyed one
Plant the foot on the cracks of death
Raise your ropes, strength for rest
Close my eyes to see you suffer
Hold my hands to pull you in
Fingers of light, You'll burn with me tonight
Suns pass moons yet again
Our planets align with every step
Smooth skin on the stone
The knife raised high, your not alone
Your still pumping heart, your final moan
The white ring of blindness, a sacrifice had been shown
Watch your head roll then maybe you'll see
I'm here in the star, never to far
We could burn together
If you could only see past the foot of the stairs
Nine TimesI saw him nine times.
The first time we were both sitting in the room together, getting ready to take the math test that would determine our placement. I was scatterbrained and throwing things around, trying to find the pencils that I had known I would need but had still just tossed in my purse. He was lounging backwards in his chair, looking for all the world as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, including the upcoming test. It annoyed me, that I was frantic and ready to scream, while someone else could be that relaxed.
I tested out of the class.
I don’t know if he did.
The second time I saw him, it was a few months after I arrived on campus. He was the one rushing and frantic this time, running across the square. He was probably late for class, though I had no way of knowing for sure. I was already lost in my own thoughts and ideas, deciding on my major and convincing people that yes, this is what I really want to do with my life. If they weren
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