Reflections

The sun finally hovered above the horizon, daylight giving the colt a better view of his surroundings. Still eerily silent and lonely. Lazy beams of sunlight warmed his freckled cheeks as he sat there, thinking. He knew he couldn’t sit on the bus all morning, but he was reluctant to jump down. It was a bright yellow beacon in case help came along the road.

At the same time, it could also attract trouble. He decided to give it one last good look over before he left. He turned, bracing himself against the window he had exited the night before, and slowly leaned in.

The stench had gotten worse. The mangled bodies of ponies littered the bus, some still tangled in their seat belts. Flies buzzed around the outstretched hooves of maybe thirty dead ponies. Most of them were unrecognizable. Blood, guts, and discolored scraps of fur covered the seats and the walls. Most of the blood gathered down into the middle, like a macabre kiddie pool.

The colt swallowed hard, and looked at the seat he escaped from.

The mare sitting next to him was still there, her head smashed against the window into a slushy of gore, with shards of glass stabbing out of her gaunt cheeks and mouth. He whimpered, pulling himself out of the window and taking a couple shaky breaths. The fresh air welcomed him, reminding him he had survived.

Was it fate that had saved him, or fate that had doomed everybody else? He didn’t want to dwell on it.

He tossed his bag down first, and slid down the bus after it. The colt figured going back the way he came from would be easier. He remembered passing through small towns occasionally through the long stretches of farmland.

He swung the bag back onto his back, shook his head clear, and headed west.