IF WISHES WERE HORSES by Flaminia Lubin
“ Emma was not asleep; she pretended to be; and while he dozed off by her side she awakened to other dreams. To the gallop of four horses she was carried away for a week towards a new land, whence they would return no more.” (Madame Bovary - Flaubert)
IF WISHES WERE HORSES
Another wistful, somber day. New York.
Not even a peep. Just the howling sound of the ambulance sirens, up and down
on the empty street.
Not even a car, no traffic jams to slow down these life-saving units.
Not even a human shadow on the streets, locked inside, ghostly visions.
She came from Florida, my horse, to my stable. Before the shutdown.
Now she’s waiting in Long Island, waiting to be bought and cared for.
I started riding when I was a child and never stopped.
I can’t see her and time is slipping. “I’m at risk” I tell my trainer over and over, yet she pressures me.
She’s resilient. She’ll close down the entire stable, leave everyone out, gardeners, stable boys, maintenance people, horse cleaners. All for me.
At six. Our appointment.
I put on my armor: gloves, face-mask , disinfectant for the car, for the saddle, for the reins. Off we go. Only Police cars on the highway.
The silence is deafening. The trucks aren’t rushing to the city, no cars, no honking, no radios blasting from the windows, no motorcycles, not tickets, no infractions.
I get there, I type the code to get in. 1911. I immediately disinfect my hands. I’m inside the stable.
Jenny, the trainer, is waiting for me, she sees me running.
She brings out a magnificent gray white mare, Agnes Augusta,a jumping champion in Florida.
Tall, perfect musculature and legs, long tail, a sweet muzzle, a perfect mane.
She is ready, I get on the saddle in a haze: the virus, the pain, the deaths, the unemployed and the homeless.
The nightmare fades out. I’m flying on my white horse, dreaming, galloping, soaking the world outside. She’s the wind and I’m an amazon.
Back on the saddle, I’m free again, happy, grateful. A light cloud, a floating and fleeting sensation.
I have never rode with such purpose, such passion.
Back in the car, back to the city. The radio counts the victims, the sick. The hospitals and the cemeteries are too crowded.
The road is still empty, as evening creeps in. No lights, no sounds.
The flight has come to a halt. It’s stalling. On the away home.
Flaminia Lubin is a documentary director and producer with an expertise in Jewish History and the Shoah. She has worked with crews from all over the world. Her documentaries include: “The Cough of Ground Zero” (2003) - which was highly-acclaimed and won the prestigious Premio Ilaria Alpi award, “Mystery Life of a Geisha” (2004), “The Persecuted of the Falun Gong” (2005), “Sex Slaves of Katmandu” (2006), “50 Good Italians”, the docufilm “Hiding in the Spotlight “ (2012) based on the eponymous book, with footage from the Steven Spielberg Archive and “Yalla! New Media and Peace” (2015) (Visioni dal Mondo Festival, Milan). She just finished her latest film “ The Displaced” (about Jewish refugees after WW2). She is a published author as well: “Come una Geisha” (Edizioni Cadmo)