“Dashing through the snow” is not as comfortable as it sounds. It was on my bucket list, so we decided to try it out. We called a local place that took people on sleigh rides, and the price was right. The ground, however, did not contain “a drifted bank.” It was white, but that’s about it.
In the old sleigh, my husband and I sat down on a bench seat. We had a wool blanket over our laps to keep us warm. The sun was setting over the field, and it looked magical.
Then the horse started pulling away from the barn. Our driver chose paths over a wide field, but there were rocks under the snow we couldn’t see. We felt every single stone as the runners were dragged over the melting snow. With each bump, we tried sliding around the bench to find a spot that wasn’t as painful. That proved impossible.
We could see our breath in front of us with the moon overhead. Mittens and knitted caps kept us warm because open sleighs are cold as they move through the winter air. The horse snorted as he trotted, and one time provided us a malodorous gift. Each time we hit a bump, my husband and I looked at each other, and we started giggling. Sure, we could hear the jingling of the bells, but the song never mentioned horse poop or butt bruises. We still had fun, laughing all the way back to the barn.
About the Creator
Barb Dukeman
I have three books published on Amazon if you want to read more. I have shorter pieces (less than 600 words at https://barbdukeman.substack.com/. Subscribe today if you like what you read here or just say Hi.
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More stories from Barb Dukeman and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Band of Gold
Sometimes you were just a few feet away from me. I was always there, right where you tucked me away three years ago. I remember the day, too. It was frightfully cold inside and out, snowing and icy, and you wanted to go snow tubing with the family. You looked at me, still faithfully around the ring finger on your left hand. The cold made your finger feel smaller, and you were so afraid of losing me on the snow slopes. You slid me off your finger and stashed me away in a pocket of some sort. I thought it was a purse or a coat. I heard the zipper.
By Barb Dukeman2 years ago in Fiction
Two Jars of Honey and a Kiss
Lucas removed his shoes and socks, rolled up his pant legs, and waded into the water hidden behind a wild growth of willow, alder, and pine that shaded the river bank from the hot afternoon sun. Here, the river ran narrow and shallow and the water was clear and cool. Lucas cupped his hands, scooped up some water and threw it in his face. It felt good and washed the sticky dried sweat from his brow. Just a couple of hours earlier, he had been in town selling honey at the market, while sweltering the summer heat. It had been a fine day for him. There was a good market for honey.
By Gail Winfree4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Sounded like a good idea, though...right???
Thank you! it was sooo cold, and the bumps didn't help. We had to use the restroom as well - I think that's why we were laughing too much!
Entertaining story!!! Enjoy the read!!! Loving it!!!💕❤️❤️