Satin and Cinders


For many years, I’ve stood in the protection of the forest watching, longing. She is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen with her satiny white coat, long silky mane, and tale.

The humans care for her, brush her and feed her only the sweetest hay in the glen. But, me, I live wild and free in the forest. I nibble grass and weeds. My dark coat doesn’t glisten or shine and I’ve never felt a human touch.

There is something about her that I can’t explain. When the rest of the herd moves south, I stay, year after year. I can’t stand the thought of being so far away from her. And she knows.

Now, with winter approaching, I stand at the edge of the forest and shiver. I watch until the cottage sits cloaked in darkness before I approach the barn like I’ve done hundreds of times before. The sweet smell of hay tickles my nostrils. I stamp my foot and whinny. She answers from within the warmth of her shelter with a high pitch reply. I toss my head and draw closer.

More than anything, I want to be inside the warm barn nuzzling against her softness. I edge my way to the corral where she’s spent countless hours frolicking. There has to be a way in.

I trot back to the barn door. Determination rises inside and I have to give it a try. I back up and run at full speed and slam into the door with all my strength and a loud bang.

Instantly, lights appear in the cottage windows and the back door swings open. “Who’s there?” calls the human.

I shrink into the shadows and shake my head. I wait. Once again the cottage falls silent in the darkness.

Back at the barn, I paw at the wood. She answers with a soft nicker.

What? Did she say there is a back way in? I lose no time galloping to the north side of the corral. She is right. A stallion like me can easily clear that fence. I back up and run at a full gallop, clearing the fence and coming to a skidding stop. Satin meanders out of the barn, prancing and pawing the ground.

My heart races. I am in. I am with her, my dream, my love.

She tosses her long white mane and beckons me to follow. Ah, the sweet smell of fresh alfalfa. I blow out a long sigh, nicker and join her.

I haven’t considered the human in my need to be with her. Early the next morning, I lift my head, alert, as the barn door slides open.

“What in tarnation?” The human exclaims. “I’ve had horses break out, but never in my life have I had a horse break in.”

He approaches. “Good boy,” he says. He reaches out to touch me and I back away. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Satin lays her soft white head across my thick neck and nickers at her human. “Yes, I see, Satin. I see this is your friend. We’ll call him Cinders.”

The End


And the moral to this story is never give up on your dream and every Satin needs a Cinders.

45 thoughts on “Satin and Cinders

  1. Hello, Madelyn. Thank you SO much for stopping by and leaving a comment on this short story. The contrast was exactly what I was shooting for with it and you are right, the feelings are universal. Believe it or not, I am not a horse person either, but this was the story that came, so I wrote it.:) Again, thank you for your kind comment. Hugs!


  2. What struck me was the contrast in Cinder’s willingness to shiver in the cold and the blessed warmth of Satin once he finally broke in, so much so that he forgot about “the human” and was able to sleep. That set me up perfectly for relating to what must have been fear at the startling opening of the barn door in the morning, followed quickly by kindness and immediate understanding and acceptance – and my eyes got wet as I viscerally felt Cinder’s relief.

    By the way, I am not (and have never been) what people call “a horse person.” These feelings translate because they are universal.
    (Madelyn Griffith-Haynie – ADDandSoMuchMORE dot com)
    ADD/EFD Coach Training Field founder; ADD Coaching co-founder
    “It takes a village to transform a world!


    1. Oh, Sally, you do the most amazing supportive things. Thank you SO much for the reblog. I truly am honored and Tina is such a beautiful soul to share what touches her. Thank you! Hugs! xoxoxo

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I read it to my niece just now. I was “child sitting” and she was up early on a school day! She loved it too, and understood what it meant, so the message crosses the generations. And, of course, the appeal of horses is strong. All the family ride,

    Liked by 2 people

  4. I loved this story through Cinders prospective. He gave up his freedom to be with Satin and gained so much. I enjoyed the pictures, too. Never give up on your dreams–beautifully done.

    Liked by 3 people

  5. Thank you SO much, Gwen. I’d be honored if you share it with your sister-in-law. I don’t know where the story came from. It just came. I’m so glad you enjoyed it and I hope she does as wel

    Liked by 1 person

  6. What a sweet story, Jan. When I was much younger, I rode horses around the farm. My sister-in-law is a horse whisperer and competes professionally with jumps. I’m going to send her your story; I know she’ll love it. Big hugs…

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Oh, Tina, you just made my eyes tear up. I don’t know where these stories come from. They just come and I’m compelled to write them, but when they evoke some emotion when I know they have served a purpose. Hugs, sweet lady, and thanks for stopping in, commenting and sharing.

      Liked by 2 people

  7. Thank you, Tonya. Yes, I wrote it. I don’t know where it came from. Out of the blue and I had to write it down. 🙂 I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I could just see him loving her so much that he’d stay through cold winters and then finally getting up the determination to join her. Thank you for your kind words. Hugs to you!!

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Jan- this story was so powerful, moving, it truly pulled at my heart. Thank you for sharing. My love for horses is boundless and this story just proves how wonderful and loving horses are. Love you, did you write this?

    Liked by 1 person

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