Short Fiction Blog

Before Alomar could say anything else, a burst of fire ignited the stables. Alomar and his father ran inside to free the horses, instructing his mother to hide behind the stonemason’s house.

The horses were frantic, making the task of releasing them dangerous and time consuming. Alomar’s father opened one stall and a nervous stallion knocked him to the ground. Before the horse could trample his father, Alomar jumped between them.

“No!” his father shouted, watching the frightened horse stomp Alomar.

Grabbing a pitchfork, Alomar’s father managed to urge the stallion out of the barn. He then turned to Alomar, trying to judge the degree of injury.

“Wake up, son,” Alomar’s father beseeched. “Open your eyes!”

Getting no reply, he picked Alomar up in his arms and carried him outside, lying him down behind the stonemason’s house with his mother.

“Oh no! What happened?” Alomar’s mother asked, tears streaking her face.

“He saved my life,” her husband brokenly replied.

“What have I done,” Alomar’s mother wailed. “I blamed him for all this. He is only a child himself. I’m the one who should have been watching Shana. Now I’ve lost both my children.”

Trackback URI | Comments RSS