These are not stories.

Author's Note: "Mr. Palomino" began as a ten-minute exercise and, ultimately, is the combination of eighteen ten-minute sessions. From each session to the next, only the previous was referenced. Thus, the version below is disjointed and potentially unsatisfying despite its length.

Mr. Palomino stood near the fence at the far side of the pasture eating grass. It was a bit muddy out still as it had rained a few days ago but the sun still hadn’t made an appearance on this side of the clouds. The grass was green and wet and had a spring freshness that he always enjoyed.

Mr. Palomino looked up from his bountiful meal as Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon were slowly bobbing their way towards him. He liked the way they walked. There was a danciness in everything they did, and they seemed to be in the same rhythm all the time.

“Hello there, Mr. Palomino,” Mr. Pigeon said from the other side of the fence.

“Hello there, Mr. Pigeon. Mrs. Pigeon,” Mr. Palomino replied.

“We heard there was fresh grass out today and we thought we would come by and talk to you for a few minutes,” said Mr. Pigeon.

Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon were typical country pigeons, smoother, cleaner, more polite than their city brethren. They had been in this part of the country for only a few months. They met Mr. Palomino after an unfortunate flight over the pasture, when Mrs. Pigeon was having bowel issues. They landed next to Mr. Palomino while he was still staring into the sky wondering what had just hit his head. The Pigeons said it was an accident and could they make it up to Mr. Palomino.

“We were thinking of flying out to the city for the weekend and wondered if you’d like to come with us,” said Mr. Pigeon. “It looks like more rain soon and the pasture will be muddy and you will be put in the barn.”

“I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Pigeon, and you, Mrs. Pigeon,” said Mr. Palomino. “I’ve been curious about what is on the other side of this fence. I see you and Mrs. Pigeon walking along the path and it looks very different than being on this side of the fence in the pasture. There is no grass and I wonder what I would eat. What is the city like?”

Mr. Palomino had stopped thinking about the fresh grass he had been eating all morning. He was laying down in it now, trying to be as low as he could, as close to eye level with the pigeons as he could be. His curiosity had been piqued as soon as Mr. Pigeon had extended the weekend invitation.

Mr. Palomino loved the pasture and the barn and the mud and slop and the freshness of the air after a nice days-long rain. But a curiosity had grown inside him ever since Mrs. Palomino had gone away.

Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon never asked Mr. Palomino about Mrs. Palomino. None of the other animals on the farm ever asked Mr. Palomino about Mrs. Palomino either. There was a look in Mr. Palamino’s eye after the storm two years ago. They were all very curious about it but none were brave enough to ever ask.

“The city is very interesting, Mr. Palomino,” said Mr. Pigeon. “We have spent a good deal of time there and there is a lot to see and stand around and watch. It’s a different pace of life but we would never let anything bad happen to you.”

“How will we get there?” asked Mr. Palomino.

“Mrs. Pigeon and I will help fly you there,” said Mr. Pigeon.

“I believe I am ready to go right now,” said Mr. Palomino.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Palomino. Mrs. Pigeon and I must go home and eat first. We are not ready to venture to the city just yet. We will come back for you shortly when we are ready to go.”

Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon continued on down the road. They were not in any hurry to get home, so they stayed on the ground. Mr. Palomino watched them as they slowly bobbed away, slightly annoyed that the weren’t flying, as he was very ready to go on this adventure.

Instead, Mr. Palomino trotted around the pasture, following the fence. It was an old rickety fence that went around for miles. The rain always brought out the rotting smell of the wood. Small ants and beetles scurried along, appearing from and disappearing into small holes, always on the go. Mr. Palomino watched them and wondered what kind of adventures they had been on or were currently on.

Three times around the pasture and Mr. Palomino decided he was tired enough for a nap until Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon came to get him. He laid down just outside the entrance of the barn. Even though there was always fresh hay inside, he didn’t like going in there. It was too lonely and depressing inside. He preferred sleeping outside next to Mr. Dog, whose food bowl was currently empty and whose water bowl was currently filled with soggy bits of kibble. Mr. Dog hadn’t been around for a few days as he preferred spending the stormy days and nights inside the house with the humans.

Mr. Palomino dozed off quickly. He dreamed Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon were much larger than he and he sat on Mr. Pigeon’s back, gliding through the clouds high above a large city. He had never been to the city but he imagined it was just a large area with tall buildings, just as he heard in the stories of all the other farm animals who had been to the city.

Small, sharp pains woke Mr. Palomino from his nap. His eyes opened, sleep still in his eyes, and as the blurriness went away, he saw Mr. Pigeon’s upside down face coming closer, moving away, coming closer, moving away. Every time coming closer was the sting of a pecking beak.

Mr. Palomino shook his head but couldn’t shake Mr. Pigeon off. He looked over towards where Mrs. Pigeon was just standing a few feet away, watching Mr. Pigeon, cooing quietly.

“Are you awake, Mr. Palomino?” asked Mr. Pigeon as he untangled himself from Mr. Palomino’s mane and hopped down to the dirt.

“I do believe I am, Mr. Pigeon,” replied Mr. Palomino.

“Mrs. Pigeon, take the left side and I’ll take the right,” said Mr. Pigeon.

Before he was really sure of what was going on, Mr. Palomino had a pigeon’s claws burrowed into each of his ears. It tickled more than it hurt, especially after Mr. Pigeon had been pecking at the bridge of his nose.

The sound of flapping and cooing filled Mr. Palomino’s ears as his head was slowly raised. Then he felt himself standing, though not really under his own doing. He was a bit startled and started to fumble, like a newborn foal. But shortly after it didn’t matter because his legs were just kicking about with no ground to support them.

“It’ll be a few moments before we get settled with your weight, Mr. Palomino,” Mr. Pigeon yelled into Mr. Palomino’s ear between flaps of his wings.

The trio raised slowly in the air, then quicker and quicker as the pigeons became comfortable with Mr. Palomino’s much larger size. Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon were used to carrying their friends around the countryside but it was usually for shorter durations with smaller friends.

Mr. Palomino stopped kicking about and soon felt comfortable with the fact that he was now looking down on the pasture. It was a lot like his dream, although the pigeons were still much smaller than he.

Still climbing upward, they started moving forward. Mr. Palomino felt a calm he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not really sure of protocol, he released his bowels over the pasture, a bit landing near the chickens, who continued running around like the dumb chickens they were. Mr. Palomino never had good interactions with them and just snickered as the pigeons flew faster, carrying him outside the bounds of the farm.

It was quite misty outside and their visibility wasn’t great, but Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon were now in a groove and had an easy time carrying Mr. Palomino. They continued on in silence for a while, Mr. Palomino taking in his new surroundings from an even newer vantage point.

Everything looked much different from up here. He had spent all his years in the pasture looking up at all the buildings around him and now they all looked so small and insignificant. The barn was a massive structure looming over him every day, and now he was looking down on much bigger structures that didn’t look intimidating at all. He wondered if the pigeons felt the power he currently felt every day of their lives, but he decided not to ask and closed his eyes and smiled.

It was a mostly quiet ride except for the flapping of the pigeons’ wings and the breeze going past his ears. They were low enough that Mr. Palomino could hear the topmost leaves of trees rustling about. There was the occasional sound of a carriage, a sound he was very familiar with. He watched his horse friends walk past the pasture pulling their humans around in those carriages. He much preferred the warmth of their bodies on his back and always wondered why his friends’ humans didn’t want to sit on their backs.

A sudden jolt and Mr. Palomino neighed as he awoke from a trance.

“Apologies, Mr. Palomino,” said Mr. Pigeon. “We’ve hit a rough patch in the air. The geese and ducks have been battling here for months and the wakes always make it difficult to fly through this area.”

Coming up over the horizon were the tops of the tallest buildings in the city. Mr. Palomino started smiling a bigger smile. The buildings grew taller and faster as they got closer.

The pigeons started flying lower and lower so the buildings grew even taller. They were on the near side of a river and set down in a waterfront park. The park was empty except for small animals scurrying about. Mr. Palomino nearly fell over as his legs had cramped from hanging in the air for the past hour. Mrs. Pigeon cooed and picked at a bug in the grass.

“We thought you might like to ride across the bridge. It’s a wonderful way to enter the city if you’ve never been before,” said Mr. Pigeon.

Mr. Palomino whinnied and did a little trotting dance, spinning around in a circle. He smelled the air, which was much different than the pasture. There were smells he had never smelled before and he was anxious to find out their sources.

The trio walked through the park and up the front slope of the bridge.

“The city is much different, Mr. Palomino, so just stay behind and follow Mrs. Pigeon and myself,” said Mr. Pigeon.

They walked along the side of the bridge, amongst humans on foot, on cycles, on scooters, in carriages. Mr. Palomino marveled at the carriages that mysteriously moved forward without the help of horses.

“Those are called motorized vehicles, Mr. Palomino,” said Mr. Pigeon. “The city is a constant battle with those beasts. Mind your step as a direct encounter with one is very likely to hurt. Our friend, Mr. Squirrel, had his tail fall off last month after a vehicle ran over it. He hasn’t been the same since.”

Mr. Palomino stopped when they got to the other side of the bridge.

“Take it all in, Mr. Palomino,” said Mr. Pigeon.

Mr. Palomino looked up and around at all the tall and marvelous buildings. He didn’t really know what to think of it all but he knew he liked it. The windows and doors on all of the buildings were much different than in the countryside. The glass was cleaner and shinier. Humans went about in a hurry, hardly noticing each other, but never missing a beat, like ants heading to and from the colony.

Mr. Palomino sat down on his butt like he had learned from years of being around Mr. Dog. It was much noisier here in the city than in the pasture and his ears were starting to hurt. He didn’t even bother waving his tail about when a fly landed on him because these city flies were much smaller than the country flies and he barely noticed them.

All of a sudden, a motorized vehicle made a loud screeching sound and smacked into a carriage, sending it tumbling through the air, dragging its horse driver along with it. The carriage smashed into the ground and the horse smashed into the carriage with a loud whinny.

The sound of breaking wood and metal and bones sent a long shiver down Mr. Palomino’s spine. Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon both squawked and back down the bridge away from the accident. The rancid remnants of a sandwich distracted them as Mr. Palomino ran towards the wreckage.

Mr. Palomino nearly ran over a dozen humans. Fortunately, they had enough instinct to get out of the way of a large animal charging toward them. The vehicles, however, kept moving forward and one clipped Mr. Palomino’s back leg. He let out a scream but kept on running.

A crowd was gathering around the accident. The motorized vehicle that hit the carriage had long fled the scene, despite a few bystanders’ attempts to stop it by hurling stones at it. The back window cracked a bit but the driver of the car was scared enough to pull some evasive maneuvers and disappeared amongst all the other chaos of the city.

Mr. Palomino scooted his way through the crowd. The injured horse lay twisted amongst the pieces of carriage, a large wound running along its side, blood pooling on the ground underneath it. The three humans from the carriage were also injured; an elderly man with his right leg bending the opposite direction it was supposed to; an elderly lady with a gaping wound along her stomach, her white dress now becoming red; a young child crying hysterically, looking down on them, with blood coming out of his nose and mouth.

“Rebecca!” cried Mr. Palomino when he finally saw the horse’s face.

He crouched down next to her, licking her face. Her eyes opened and looked up towards Mr. Palomino.

“Mr. Palomino, you finally came,” she said.

The sound of sirens neared. A police vehicle, followed by two medical vehicles, crept through the crowd, forcing bystanders out of the way. They either moved on their own or were clipped by the police vehicle’s bumper. The police officers and medics jumped out of their vehicles and hurried towards the accident.

“Rebecca, what an awful way to meet you here!” said Mr. Palomino.

“I’ll be fine, baby brother,” Rebecca replied. “The city is crazy and these accidents happen all the time. I got tangled with a group of humans on bicycles just the other day, sending all of us sprawling to the ground. Blood, scrapes, bruises.. It’s all part of the game.”

She gave Mr. Palomino a reassuring smile.

Without speaking, the medics had Rebecca and the humans on stretchers and began loading them into the medical vehicles. Surprisingly, it only took four medics to carry Rebecca, who was not the smallest of creatures.

One of the police officers, who saw that Mr. Palomino wasn’t injured, patted him on the nose and said “Git on back, now. Your friend will be just fine.” Mr. Palomino got up and moved backwards, back toward the rest of the crowd, back to where Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon were now waiting for him.

As the sirens blared again, the ambulances departed and the crowd started dispersing, humans and animals alike continuing on their morning routes. A large vehicle pulled up and two men began throwing the pieces of broken carriage into the back. A third man was sweeping splinters and bolts and screws ferociously into an oversized dustpan.

Mrs. Pigeon squawked as Mr. Palomino nearly stepped on her.

“Where are they taking her?” he asked.

“There’s a hospital on the other side of the city where they take the injured humans,” replied Mr. Pigeon. “Right next to it is a large pasture where they leave the injured animals to heal.”

“I must go find my sister!” screamed Mr. Palomino. “I have important news for her!”

Mr. Palomino took off before Mr. Pigeon was able to say anything. Mr. Pigeon merely wanted to point him in the right direction as the city might be difficult for a horse to get around on its own the first time. Not only dealing with the vehicles and humans and other animals, but there were many streets that ended leading nowhere or, worse, somewhere a country horse shouldn’t be on its own.

“Come on, Mrs. Pigeon” said Mr. Pigeon and the two started up over the traffic.

Mr. Palomino was already quite far ahead but Mr. Pigeon was still able to see his glowing hair. And though he was running quickly, he was erratic in his maneuvering, stopping abruptly, being indecisive about going left or right, running into the strangers around him.

Up ahead, Mr. Palomino, spotted the police vehicle moving slowly. A man on the sidewalk was walking quickly, huddled in a long coat, glancing back nervously at the police vehicle that seemed to be following him. The man disappeared around a corner and the police vehicle followed.

Mr. Palomino made his way through yet another busy intersection and turned down the same street. The police vehicle now had its lights on and three policemen were running after the man in the long coat while a fourth policeman stood outside the car watching the chase. It was a very long and narrow street and the policemen, though seemingly twice as heavy as the man in the long coat, were catching up to him very quickly.

“Hello, sir,” said Mr. Palomino, startling the policeman. “Might you tell me which way they’ve taken my sister, Rebecca?”

Mr. Palomino had not noticed that this was not the same policeman from the accident. This policeman had not expected a large horse to walk up behind him and ask him a question. He let out a quiet yelp and fumbled for his mace, which he sprayed right into the unsuspecting face of Mr. Palomino. Then he managed to grab hold of his baton and started beating Mr. Palomino’s front legs with it. The policeman nervously reached for the whistle around his neck as Mr. Palomino, whose eyes were now closed with tears running down his cheeks, instinctively started kicking his back legs high into the air. He had never felt such intense physical pain in his eyes before and he thrashed about violently.

The policeman was finally able to blow his whistle. Down the street the three other policemen had caught up with the man in the long coat and were beating him with their batons. When they heard the whistle, they stopped, looked back towards the police vehicle, and started running back to help their distressed colleague. They all yelled “stop right there!” and had the horrific honor of seeing Mr. Palomino’s rear side facing the nervous policeman, his massive back legs striking the policeman directly in the chest, sending him straight through the vehicle, and coming out the other side, smacking violently into the wall.

Mr. Palomino kept twisting around and around. The other policemen got near him as he continued thrashing about blindly, whinnying. Bystanders were starting to make their way towards the scene to find out what all the commotion was.

One of the policeman threw his baton at Mr. Palomino and hit him in the side. The other two were spraying their mace at him from a distance, but a sudden gust of wind blew the mace right back into their own faces. They all flinched as their eyes started burning and fumbled around, reaching blindly for something to brace themselves, eventually just falling to the ground, rubbing their teary eyes.

Mr. Palomino’s eyes started adjusting as the pain and tears subsided. He calmed down a bit as his vision started clearing slightly. He could just barely make out the blobs a few feet away making crying noises, and the excitement of a crowd on the other side.

“What’s going on?”

“Looks like a horse and police fighting!”

“Someone call emergency! There’s a bleeding policeman near the wall!”

Mr. Palomino now became worried, not sure what he had done, but sure it wasn’t good for him.

He ran towards the crowd, who screamed and jumped out of the way. Vehicles honked and screeched as they narrowly avoided hitting the wild horse, running maniacally between traffic. His vision still a bit blurry, he decided to run in as straight a line as he could, hoping any vehicles or pedestrians would move out of his way. He heard the now familiar sound of sirens nearing and ran past the ambulance as it headed in the opposite direction, the paramedics looking at him as he ran past.

“Mr. Palomino, wait!” shouted squawked Mr. Pigeon. But it was no use as the horse ran away wildly, vehicles honking and pedestrians shouting at him as he ran through the traffic and crowds. Mr. Pigeon’s small pigeon voice couldn’t be heard over the noise.

“Come, Mrs. Pigeon,” he said and the two continued flying after Mr. Palomino on his new course. They stayed higher this time so they could keep an eye on him. He looked like a steam locomotive, smashing his way through whatever lay on the tracks in front of him. Over vehicles, over children on scooters, over anything that didn’t manage to get out of his way.

Mrs. Pigeon moved her bowels through this whole ordeal. People below her looked up and cursed the passing birds when they realized what had hit them on their heads or shoulders or vehicle windshields. Mr. Pigeon knew this was too much excitement for her but also knew he couldn’t let her out of his sights. One lost friend was enough for him for one day.

Ahead, after running nonstop for many miles, Mr. Palomino jumped over a hedge and found himself in a large, tree-filled park. His eyes were clear now and he was panting. He laid down, realized he was extremely thirsty, and got back up, looking around for water. He saw a puddle in a damp part of the grass and dropped in front of it, slowly lapping up the dirty water with his long tongue. He sighed with exhaustion.

Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon, flying as quickly as their old wings could, finally caught up with Mr. Palomino and stumbled down to the ground next to him.

“Mr. Palomino, please wait!” said Mr. Pigeon, his breath panting. He looked over at Mrs. Pigeon who was cooing and following a trail of breadcrumbs. “And, please, Mrs. Pigeon, you don’t go too far.”

Mr. Palomino was still lapping up water from the puddle, ignoring his friend.

“Mr. Palomino,” continued Mr. Pigeon. “I was going to tell you which way to go to get to Rebecca. The city is a maze and you could easily get lost. We’ve already gone way off course.”

The horse looked at his little friend, a tear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Pigeon. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just so excited to finally see Rebecca again after all these years. And they took her away from me again.”

Mr. Palomino began sobbing and laid his head in his crossed arms. Mr. Pigeon wasn’t quite sure how to console him so he just pecked lightly at his shoulder.

Mr. Pigeon looked back towards Mrs. Pigeon. But she was no longer in sight.

“Son of a bitch!” he squawked. “Mr. Palomino, please come with me. I must find Mrs. Pigeon. She doesn’t know her way home. I will guide you to Rebecca afterwards, I promise.”

The horse nodded in agreement and stood up. Both he and Mr. Pigeon began calling out for Mrs. Pigeon.

Mr. Palomino ran towards a statue where the bread crumbs seemed to be going. He startled a large crowd of birds that flapped their wings wildly all around him. He whinnied and batted his mane about until all of the birds were finally gone.

Mrs. Pigeon was nowhere to be found.

Mr. Palomino ran around the statue calling out to Mrs. Pigeon, while Mr. Pigeon flew around the park doing the same.

The flock of birds Mr. Palomino startled had flown into the sky, disbanding. But now they were realizing there was no reason they should have been scared of a single horse. They started regrouping and heading back back towards Mr. Palomino and Mr. Pigeon.

One group stayed in the sky, encircling Mr. Pigeon. The other group encircled Mr. Palomino down on the ground, beating their wings against the large horse, who started kicking wildly, knocking a few of the birds back, who then caught their breaths and returned to beating the horse.

“Please, leave us alone,” yelled Mr. Pigeon, who was now attempting to flee his pursuers. “We’re just looking for my wife!”

“You think you can just send your big friend to break up our meeting?” yelled a dirty seagull. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

The group of birds encircled Mr. Pigeon and started beating their wings against him. He winced and tried to get away, flapping his own wings viciously. He saw Mr. Palomino down below in a fight of his own. He managed to break through a barrier of wings and swooped down to his friend. In his dive, he noticed a bird floating in a fountain near the statue and flew down to it.

“Mr. Palomino, i found her!” he yelled as he noticed his wife’s limp body floating in the water.

Mr. Palomino ran towards the fountain, pushing his way through the birds, who were now getting tired from their flapping, some of them deciding they had enough and retreating to the far side of the park.

Mr. Pigeon hopped into the water.

“Wake up, my dear,” he said to Mrs. Pigeon. But her body just floated limp and lifeless. He looked up at his horse friend, who was bleeding from a few cuts on his face.

“Mr. Palomino, we must make haste and get her to the pasture where Rebecca is. She is a fighter, this one, but she needs help immediately.”

In one quick motion, Mr. Palomino picked Mrs. Pigeon up in his mouth and started running back towards to noisy street while Mr. Pigeon buried himself in the horse’s blonde mane. He wasn’t going to lose his friend this time.

“Back the way you came from, Mr. Palomino!” he shouted above the noise. “Stop for no human or vehicle! I will let you know when to turn.”

This time, having clear vision, Mr. Palomino was able to run through the traffic effortlessly. He sprinted and weaved amongst the vehicles, not disturbing the flow one bit.

They neared a large building lined with stone gargoyles high above, and protected by large stone hogs on the ground.

“A sharp right when you pass the fourth hog, Mr. Palomino!” shouted Mr. Pigeon.

The horse made a sharp right as he passed the fourth hog and found himself running down into a dark tunnel.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Palomino, the tunnel will be empty and you will be able to run straight through.

We will come up on the far side of the city and the pasture will be close by.”

Mr. Palomino snorted and the sound echoed through the narrow tunnel. It was pitch black but he trusted Mr. Pigeon, closed his eyes to rest them a bit, and ran as straight as he could. He felt the cold, wet ground beneath his hooves but it was free of debris so he glided smoothly. A couple of times he could feel his skin touch the sides of the wall. But the walls were slimy and it just straightened him out.

After a while, Mr. Pigeon noticed a tiny dot of light ahead, the opening on the far side of the tunnel.

“Nearly there, Mr. Palomino” he said. Mr. Palomino opened his eyes and kept running towards the light, maintaining his speed.

“Slow down, Mr. Palomino. There will be an island in the middle of the wide and busy street. You must not get hit by the vehicles, as these will be the largest in the city and would surely hurt us all.”

The sound of enormous vehicles echoed through the tunnel as Mr. Palomino came to a stop, his eyes adjusting to the outside light. He was just able to peak his head out without it being taken off by an an enormous vehicle speeding past. The traffic seemed endless. He looked to the right, he looked to the left, and there didn’t seem to be an opening. He saw the island about 5 vehicles-width away and wasn’t sure how he would make it there.

“How will I make it to the island, Mr. Pigeon?” he asked.

Before Mr. Pigeon even heard the question, Mr. Palomino let out a cry.

“Mrs. Pigeon! I’ve lost her! She must have fallen out of my mouth while I dozed off.”

Tears flowed from his eyes.

“I will go back for her, Mr. Palomino” said Mr. Pigeon after a few moments. “You must get to the pasture and find Rebecca.”

Without another word, Mr. Pigeon’s wings flapped and he disappeared into the darkness from whence they came.

Mr. Palomino knew which way he had to go now. He looked out at the road again, back and forth, saw an opening, and lunged forward.

Immediately, a giant vehicle smacked into him, sending him hurling through the air. He looked at the sun as he twisted around, remembering the life he had lived, remembering Rebecca’s face.

SMACK! He landed hard as the vehicles around screeched to a halt. Pedestrians seemed to come out of nowhere, shouting and pointing at him lying motionless. Blood was pooling around him, flowing from his mouth and ears. His legs and arms mangled and twisted in ways they weren’t meant to. Everything went black.

“Mr. Palomino. Meeeester Palomeeeno, waaaaakke uuuppp.”

Mr. Palomino’s eyes began to open. Everything was blurry and stars filled his vision.

Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon were sitting on his chest, staring down at him from a couple of inches away.

“Oh, good to see you awake, Mr. Palomino,” said Mr. Pigeon. Mrs. Pigeon cooed.

“What happened?” asked Mr. Palomino.

“Well, Mr. Palomino, it seems you’ve had a bit of a tumble,” said Mr. Pigeon. “I found Mrs. Pigeon halfway back in the tunnel. She was just standing there, coughing, waiting patiently for a change. It seems she had swallowed a worm at the fountain. When you dropped her, the worm fell out and she could breathe again. We were flying back to find you when we saw the police and medical vehicle hauling you away. So we came to the pasture.”

Mr. Palomino felt an itch in his eye and tried to scratch it. But then he realized he was in a full body cast and couldn’t move any part of his body. He wiggled his eyelids up and down but the itch just got worse.

“Mr. Pigeon, could you please…”

Before he finished, Mrs. Pigeon was gently scratching his eyelid with her beak.

“Thank you, Mrs. Pigeon.”

Mr. Pigeon continued. “You’ve been asleep for nearly a week. Someone here has been very excited about seeing you recover.”

They heard a loud whinny from outside the stall.

“Rebecca!” shouted Mr. Palomino as his sister appeared.

“Baby brother! So glad you’ve awoken! Seems you’ve had a bit of a tumble.”

“I was coming to look for you, Rebecca. I needed to tell you something urgently and then they took you away.”

She looked radiant, almost new, like nothing had ever happened to her. Magical place this hospital was.

“I feel so refreshed and you will, too, shortly,” said Rebecca. “So what is this message you have for me that has caused you so much pain?”

He looked around nervously, Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon still standing on him, his big sister stepping closer, licking his face.

“I want you to come back to the pasture. I miss you.”

Everyone looked at Rebecca. She smiled.

“Of course, baby brother.”

Mr. Palomino smiled back and whinnied.

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