It is not written anywhere in the book how horses act a little haunted sometimes, like humans. At least, I haven’t found an entry yet on haunted-ness. I resent the on-again off-again hauntings by someone I used to love. I believe the answer to the problem of these hauntings exists somewhere outside of myself, as wrong as it sounds. I notice Shivering much later, pg. 563.
I hit my knee on an open desk drawer; I limp around until it stops hurting; it bruises. I look up the anatomy of a horse’s knee. It corresponds to a human wrist in its bone structure. My wrist appears fine, for now, slight as usual, no sympathy bruise for the knee manifest yet.
I haven’t seen a horse recently, only smelled one near a run-down barn, but then a sheep stood in full view, not the horse, I suppose they both lived there together. I used to think of myself as “not a horse person,” but it is possible this was only in relation to “horse lovers” who marketed themselves as such and could be so vehement about it; by vehement I mean they had a poster of a horse hanging in their room.
In Argentina, I confess now I bought a mounted photograph of a horse. It is taken in a vertical orientation as to capture only its face and mane. The horse appears to be smiling and has light hair. He, if it is a he, looks like a horse-celebrity. His owner, the assumed photographer, must have loved him very badly.