23/05/2025
In the arid fields of the Nevada desert, where the nights seem to swallow the horizon and the silence hangs heavy like a tombstone, there are those who claim to have seen the White Nocturnal Horse. It does not gallop, it leaves no footprints. It floats. Its slender, pale body glides about a meter above the ground, and its eyes glow like burning coals in the heart of the darkness. It doesn’t neigh, it doesn’t breathe; it simply manifests.
The old locals —those who barely speak anymore, or do so very slowly— say it appears among the low shrubs or near dry riverbeds, as if following some ancestral route. Some have seen it drifting slowly between the trees of the forest, others hovering above the open plain with a ghostlike slowness. Always at night. Always in silence.
Most of those who’ve seen it claim that at first, they thought they were dreaming. The scene is too perfect, too unsettling: a white horse, suspended in the air, moving forward with a supernatural calm beneath a star-filled sky. Some even describe feeling a deep sense of peace, as if they were on the verge of understanding something immense, though undefined.
But upon waking —if one can call it that— nothing is ever the same. What begins as a slight numbness upon opening the eyes soon turns into a sentence: sleep paralysis. Permanent. Those who’ve had the vision become trapped in an in-between state, conscious but motionless, as if the white horse had dragged them into a dimension where the body vanishes and only the weight of eternal insomnia remains.
Image created with Sora and modified in Photoshop
