Flash Friday # 20: The Ride Home

 

The Ride Home
    

    The horse plodded through red dust, a dozen sheep bleating in protest as I herded them down the hillside to the lowland grass. I never knew -- no one did -- what drove crazy sheep to climb the steep hills upward to where the air was too thin.


But up I had gone, me and the horse, to find the crazy animals. Sheep at least tended to stand together and I found them