march 24 2000

walking along a bridge, sometimes a land bridge, sometimes metal. black shape in the water, horse like. yes, it's a horse. the poor thing fell in, we have to get it out, hon. the poor thing will drown! we're in a room, it's a flooded farmhouse. long, low, white. open front, air coming in. sunny, warm. english countryside. the horse seems to find its way to the shallow part where we're standing. it gets out. i expect it to be out of breath and sick, but it's not. it's fine. i wonder. we try to find a way to get it out of the corner we're in. we can somehow get through ok, but if the horse touches the water it'll fall in and get hurt again. we find a way to get it around the bed without letting it touch the water. it runs off happily free. the sun blinds me.