January 31, 1989.

Michelle is down and out with her son. I give them a blanket and
sheets because they are cold. I tell Michelle she can come and
use the washroom, take a bath.

I must go deliver bread in a town which resembles Cardinal, a
small ghost town. It is storming outside. I am not very well
dressed. There is a band playing in my house. The bread is
piled up high at the end of the lane and of course, it is frozen.
I ask Gary, an old highschool boyfriend, if I can borrow his
black gloves as my mitts are wet. I'm wearing a dress and my
legs are bare. As I walk along the narrow lane, I see a car
driving toward me at least 140 km an hour. There is a high wall
on one side of the lain and an chain-linked fence on the other.
I manage to scuttle up the fence and miss getting run over by a
fraction of a second. The driver, a man, is speaking on a car phone.
Further down the lane, a huge jeep is parked and the
driver, a youngish man, is talking on the phone to the man who
has just passed me. A black stallion is tied to his jeep. To
get past, I must duck under the chain which ties the horse. The
chain is actually the telephone cord. I am scared as the horse
is fairly restless, but I must get through. As I duck under the
cord, the horse attacks me. It bites and kicks me everywhere. I
manage to run away, but it breaks the cord and comes after me. I
jump over the fence. The horse follows. I jump back in the lane,
back into the field, back in the lane again and each time, the
horse follows and repeatedly attacks me. I am getting weaker and
weaker. I am coverd with bites, cuts, bruises,; I am bleeding,
but still I run. The man on the phone finishes his call and
comes to chase his horse but it is too late. The horse has done
its work and has stopped on his own. The horse seems to speak to
me. He admires my stamina. I look at my wrecked body. I know
it will heal but I see two wounds on the back of each of my legs,
behind the knee and I know these two will never heal, as long as
I live.

I walk away. The horse's anger has died down. I am two people.
There is me and a smaller, younger me. We are both wearing long
brown hooded capes and we walk westward. There is still bread to
deliver.


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