“Brave high tide, with its possibility of water horses swimming up from the ocean, instead of riding later, at low tide, with its certainty of water horses menacing me on the beach. So I set my alarm clock for five o’clock and saddle Dove before she’s properly awake.Gabe is already gone. I’m not even sure if he came home. I’m a little glad for the treacherous dark slope, because it doesn’t let my thoughts linger on what his absence means for us.Once we’ve gotten to the base of the cliffs, I have... to move slowly, trying not to lead Dove into any of the boulders that scatter above the high waterline. What little light there is reflects off Dove’s breath, turning it white and solid. It’s so dark that I can hear the sea better than I can see it. Shhhhh, shhhhhh, it says, like I’m a fretful child and it’s my mother, though if the sea were my mother, I’d rather have been an orphan.Dove is alert, her eyes pricked to the tide, which is still a bit too high for proper training.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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