Entry for June 20, 2007

I was stuck in traffic on the way home from work tonight. As I crawled down to the roundabout, me and the other washed out businesspeople of Lanarkshire, I passed the flood plain at Bothwell; a lovely patch of meadow beside the motorway slip road.
And there was a young girl in the field with a horse. The horse was on a bridle, and the girl held a rope as the horse galloped in a happy circle around her. Some old, old ritual. A black mane and blonde hair dancing in the wind. Then the horse slowed and stopped and the girl held its face close as she slipped the bridle off. The horse shook its back leg and cantered off. And the girl turned and smiled.
For a long and lost moment, I forgot about the traffic. But then the lights changed, and I glided onto the motorway.