Volume Four, Issue 3

The Prophecy Said There Would Be a Horse

Camille Jessica

Watching her rake through our golden fields, armed in pale green
and eating up all that was planted for spring,

we stared

wondering why we had bothered to plant anything at all

Ma said we had no way of knowing
Sister cried
Pa sighed

She stopped when she saw us and let out a howl that chilled the wind
Icicles formed on the edge of my dress.

this woman, draped in a sickly green, twirled through my pastures
eating up
my hard work, spitting out my gold
I started to run at her, to take her down

Pummel my seeds and sweat out of her stomach
my blood and my heart

but I couldn’t move and I couldn’t stop her

Ma said she would be gone soon
Sister went in the house
Pa was silent

She continued to level us and occasionally let out another stray
and another chill would blow through
and anything she did not devour the ice did

Camille Jessica: "I am a writer residing in Western New York, specializing in essays, poetry, satire, and plays. I work in local theatre and am very passionate about film and television and aspire to direct. I'm currently writing for the satirical site Flake News."

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