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Excerpt One from 'A Story Dreamt Long Ago' |
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| I
came upon her lying quietly, like a shadow, already disappearing into a
fold in the earth. I squatted down beside her to stroke her face and look
into her soft brown eyes. She nickered - was it out of habit? Or was there
something she wanted me to understand. I wanted her to know that what I
was about to do was done with love, with deep respect and was a difficult
thank-you for the years of service.
Then I realised that I had no idea how to aim and fire a gun. I had no confidence that I could shoot to kill at any distance. The light was fading fast. Where should I aim? I knew from seeing skulls of long-dead horses that the obvious centre forehead was a solid bony plate.
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In my ignorance I couldn't calculate whether my bullet would penetrate. I couldn't bear to frighten Biddy with an ineffective shot. I felt Bettina's tension as she listened through the darkening evening. I struck a deal, explained to Biddy that I had to hold the gun, gently, to the groove above her eye. I stood behind her and pulled the trigger. Biddy's soft eye closed, she let out one long sigh. Then I sat beside her, stroked her still-warm neck, and watched the stars come out. I went into the house quietly across the back veranda. Bettina was making herself busy in the laundry. "She's gone." I said. "Thank you," she answered simply. Her bland response echoed in my head. "Gone - thank you - gone - thank you." We were both hollowed out with sadness. |
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