He saw it again today, the horse. The same one he saw yesterday and the day before that, and the day before that. The same horse that he has seen since he was a child. Appearing at different locations every day, be it out in the wild or in the middle of a bustling town, it was always there.

Stalking him.

Observing him.

Following him.

At first, the man was scarred, but, after each day, it became more and more like an everyday occurrence. He didn't know if others could see the horse or just chose not to pay attention to it.

Though one day the man could have sworn to have seen someone walk through the horse. But he never knew for certain.

He had tried to approach the horse, but every time he tried, the horse was always the same distance away. Exactly 48 meters away from him.

Every time he saw it, he could hear something in the wind, a faint whistle of a song he once knew.

He felt the horse call for him. For him to follow it. He never knew why it was calling to him, nor where it wanted him to go, but it didn't feel right.

He felt that if he where to follow it might lead to disastrous events.

So he made sure to keep his distance.

One day, however, he couldn't handle it anymore. He had to know. He had to know why the horse was calling him. Where it would take him. Why it was following him.

So the next day, as the winds whistled that familiar song and the horse entered his vision, he decided to follow it. As the man walked towards it and the horse backed away, it slowly started to turn around and lead the man.

They walked away from people and reasoning down the forest paths he walked through as a child. past the small yellow brick house he grew up in. Where the floorboards would creak and the walls where painted blue and red and all other colors they fought where fun. The house that always smelt like grandma's cranberry pie.

They walked to the port where they would go fishing with their small white and blue boat. The air around them smelt just like that day.

The day they fishing.

He never really knew why they stopped. The man remembers asking his parents, but they never answered.

Still, he remembers walking down there to look as the boats took off, sitting there from morning to dusk, and he would come home to a house that no longer was so warm. He would come back without anyone realizing he was there.

It was around then where he first saw it. The horse.

He saw it run out of the water galloping towards him. Before it stopped to look at him.

He remembered how the winds would whistle and how the horse's white fur freaked him out.

Even then, it would call to him and ask him to follow. But he didn't want to. He wanted to stay and not leave his family, who seemed so sad.

Yet now, he is here again. Standing on the same port he did that day. That day, the water felt so cold, and he found it hard to breath. The day when a certain song was playing on the radio as his father was betting on horses.

The man stopped in his tracks as they got to the boat. But the horse kept on, it walked out in the water, standing like on solid ground.

Waiting for him.

The man looked down into the murky water bellow him and saw himself looking back. He saw his much younger self as it stretched up it's arms whislt slowly sinking down.

The man looked back up, and the horse did the same, the song that whistled in the winds now dimmed, fading away into the air, taking his surroundings with it. Leaving only him and the horse standing on the murky water.

"Does it hurt?" the man asked.

The horse only grunted in response.

Making the man let out a faint laugh.

"Well then. I think I've made you wait for long enough," he said as he started to climb on to the horse, whose once white fur became more moist and mossy.