New Years Eve. K Road. Central Auckland.
Drinks are poured, celebrations are loud, the kisses and colours are plentiful.
The sky cracks open with coloured light.
A sudden rumble silences the crowd. The Black is coming.
A stampede of a thousand black horses washes over the colour.
The fireworks suck themselves back in and hold their breath.
Everything is nothing now.

Cleo watches from her window, and one lone black horse watches her back.

Josephine Stewart-Tewhiu shares this story about the dark horse of modern depression.