Tuesday, 19 March 2013

The Horse


The little girl dreamt of horses. Tails swishing in the autumnal breeze. The horse’s golden mane shining in the warm October sun. The girl imagined riding such an impressive beast. The magnificence of the animal had encumbered her and taken her mind with a piercing desire. A love so strong that the passion melted into her young soul. Symbolically presented in front of her very eyes within the vacuum of a dream, she stood in wonder and owe of such a beautiful creature.

The sound of the hoofs hitting the ground with a clop, the gallop in her heart was strong and unrelenting. So much so that a stray tear welled up in her soft blue eyes, spilling onto her beautifully designed white dress that swayed in the gentle wind. She walked up to the horse, her heart pounding, her pulse beating with every stride. This was the moment she had waited for all of her young life, to ride a horse so glorious. She flung her leg over its back and shuffled for comfort, taking a quick glance at her father who looked on with enthrallment. 

It began with a steady gallop, moving rhythmically up and down in the sleepy air that encircled them.  The horse ran in a circle. But the sound of the hoofs could not be heard and appeared to be floating on nothing but thin air. The mane was shinier than she had dreamed as she touched it with her dainty finger tips. The tail was stationary, seemingly fixed in motion. Her daddy looked on at his six year old with pride as she rode the horse she had dreamt of, not in the fields of Devon or the rolling hills of Derbyshire but on the busy seafront of Skegness. Daddy couldn’t afford a horse. So round and around the carousel went before coming to a gentle halt. The girl hoped that one day she would get to ride a real one, but at this time the funfair had fulfilled her passion and with a loving squeeze from her daddy they walked off leaving the horse behind to melt the heart of another young child in the soft afternoon light.

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