Bristow woke up just past five AM on Thursday morning with the faintest of harbingers of sunlight shining over the eastern horizon. She pulled on a short pair of denim shorts and hastily buttoned a short sleeved flannel shirt over her bra. The morning air was still cool and the grass damp, but a lack of temperature had never bothered her. She was made for the outdoors. She grabbed a rubber band off her nightstand and put her blonde hair in a messy ponytail and grabbed her backpack before traipsing quietly through their trailer. Her moms slept a wall and a hall closet away down the hall, early risers themselves, but not as early as Bristow.
Two of the innumerable barn cats lounged on the porch of their trailer, waiting for the sunlight that would soon shine upon them. One mewed in expectation as Bristow quietly shut the front door, earning a pet for its outspokenness which it leaned into and met with slitted eyes.
Their barn was a small two story square structure split into quadrants with three of them making up stalls for their three horses and the fourth acting as a tack room as well as containing the ladder that led to the hayloft.
Bristow threw open the double doors at each end and pulled the string for the single bulb at the center of the room. During the day, with the doors thrown wide open and the cutouts in the stalls, there was more than enough natural light to make the bulb unnecessary, but the sun had yet to crest over the horizon. The yellowed lighting gave the barn a cozy, yet somewhat ominous feel, perfect for what would come later.