crash&burn.

I bend over, digging a hole in the dirt with a pitchfork. I open my mouth, and it comes pouring out, like my head is a teakettle. I don't need my gag anymore to purge. Just put pressure on my stomach with my muscles and it all comes out.
It's a lettuce and cheese sandwich [1 slice cheese, 2 slices white bread, 1 leaf lettuce].
When I turn, the Equus is watching me. He's all white with shining black eyes, and the look in his eyes is so intelligent, so profoundly human, that I expect him to speak. And what would the Equus say? 'Mom, what are you doing?' he'd say. He doesn't know what I'm doing, but he can feel my anxiety, the panic. He can feel something is wrong.
I bend over again, his eyes shining, and stand, raking dirt over the hole.
I clear my throat and start singing a lullaby to him, trying to think through dizziness. My voice isn't as nice as it used to be. I got compliments on my singing voice all the time. People urged me to sing professionally. Throwing up almost every day for the past six months has ruined that, though. It's cracky, not as strong, and the high notes are wavering.
But he doesn't mind because I make my voice as sweet as possible, patting his shoulder, rubbing the slightly concave spot between his eyes. And he blinks, snowy eyelashes over dark orbs, and he lowers his head and nudges my belly. I walk away, to the other side of the paddock, and he follows, forgetting the feelings he felt from me a few moments ago. A song, a pat, and little carrot bits from my pocket fix it all.