By David Henson
When the man enters the corral, the horse trots to nuzzle his hand. Finding no sugar cube, the animal paws the dirt and bobs its head.
The man cracks a whip. The animal shudders but pushes its snout back for sugar.
The horse is broken.
The man snaps the whip again, bruising the air around the animal, but never touching leather to flesh. The man works with the horse until the trust in its eyes becomes fear, and the beast keeps its distance, rearing and snorting.
Unbroken.
That night, the man turns in early. There are countless horses that need him.
This evoked feelings of both sadness and anger. I consider the writing good if feelings surface. The description of the whip is vivid. Good job.
Sparse, restrained & brilliantly evocative. Kind of cinematic, but with all the power of a prose-poem.
Thank you for the nice comments, Sue and Geraint