Masks He toweled birth fluids off his hands; the colt tottered to his mum’s waiting teat to eat. A tickle in his mind, a soft slide, no jolt, just a smile as the connection that cheats the miles ‘tween his mind and mom’s cemented. Her much-missed voice in his head, soft and sweet, praised the colt he’d helped birth; sad news dented his mirth; his captive grandpa’s dead; grief beat him down, twelve years of mind-talk, no contact, not safe ma’d said. He kicked the mask, pining. No masked fete for him, not when this contact had broken his heart. “Are the stars shining?” mom asked. He tilted his head, … Continue reading Masks