Pick Up
Sticks.

One fall morning, a piece of wood caught my eye. It looked like a horse’s head.

So I did what any kind traveler would do. I found the rest of him and put him back together.

He never said thank you.
He was pretty chill, though.

BEHIND THE FILM

Three days.
Whatever the woods gave me.

It started with one piece that looked like a horse’s jaw. I only had three days, so I kept looking for the next part. The neck. The chest. The legs.

I built him at my parents’ house. People around town started calling it the horse house. It became one of my mom’s favorite things I’d made.

I left the wood unprotected. It was never meant to last forever. Eventually, it would return to where it came from.

Something I never intended to keep became something worth remembering.