Psycho (a short story)
( This story is completely fictional. And being written at 1 in the morning on a school night. Oh, the insomnia. )
p a r t o n e.
"Locke Markovich, what did you do? You have that....look. Again."
"Bought a stallion."
"WHAT?" The woman's eyebrows furrowed and a confused anger fed her pale blue eyes.
"Well, we have the space."
"No! We don't!"
"That farm you and dad said you were purchasing...?"
At this point Mr. Markovich, whom I knew as Elliot, walked in. He was far from being muscular, but had a tough edge. It generally frightened anything within a mile's radius. Except for his family of course, who just saw him as an ass.
"What're we talking about?" But as Josephine opened her mouth, he was already walking out of the kitchen with a bottle clenched in his stubby fists.
Josephine sighed. "Locke, that place is filthy. The Anderson's are already taking Leah while we clean it up. Mitchell and Holly don't have any more room for a shetland, let alone a stallion!"
The argued for fifteen minutes and twenty seven seconds prior.
And then Locke sighed and combed a hand through his dirty blonde hair.
"Okay, so you have a point. But you haven't even met the horse. He's silent as a cat. I swear, you'll love him."
"Locke..." Josephine grunted and sat down. I noticed that she looked nothing like her own son. Darker. Caramel colored locks. Black eyes.
"Just give it a thought. He's an Oldenburg. Steel gray, about five."
"A young stallion. Great. Does he have a name?"
At this point, Locke Markovich's red lips curved into an amused grin.
"Yeah. I guess they call him Psycho."
( continued on later, I'm going to bed. ^^ )