Anonymous asked: It was midnight in Nolita. Max Read had stayed late at Gawker HQ, cleaning up after Nick (who was sitting in Balthazar, counting his money). As Max exited the building, a shadowy figure swooped past. Then again. On the third circuit, it slammed into Max, who staggered back and grabbed a telephone pole for balance. Finally, blinking hard, Max got a good look at the stranger, now stationary beneath a street lamp. Then he gasped. "Max, It's me... horse_ebooks." The two embrace. Horse neighs.
This is not really a writing prompt so much as a complete and highly moving short story.
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