On the Edge of Common Sense

It was a bad day at Black Rock that fateful Halloween.

It all began the week before, the call had seemed routine.

“I’ve got a mare needs checkin’, Doc, I b’lieve the sweetheart’s bred.”

“I’ll swing by there this afternoon,” Good Doctor Kelly said.

The mare was mincing round the stall as Kelly donned the sleeve.

“This should only take a second,” his assessment was naive.

“She’s just a little nervou...