Day 13: I wake up cold and alone in my bed. The wind whistles beside my feet as I stand up. I see my horse head mask on the floor and shed a single tear… ”what has brought me to this point?…”
Day 7: I find another horse sticker book in my shelf from when I was young. I put them all on my journal. I am surrounded in a cloak of irony and angst. I hate horses.
Day 6: The frost nips aggressively at my nose as I traverse these cold and woe-begotten city streets. I hear the gentle clopping of a carriage by Central Park and I feel the corners of my mouth droop downward. I stare, wide-eyed with flared nostrils at a hideous beast- not short from the dark fantasy of an eager child’s nightmare. I am filled with disgust. I do not like horses.
Day 5: Today I waited outside, three minutes for a taxi in the cold winter air with nothing but my forest green trenchcoat and a dress. The streets were vacant and the clouds hung low with the onset feeling of unease. I do not like horses.
Day 4: It is December 27th. I feel as if the world has halted into some sort of “Holiday Limbo”… A blanket of gloom wraps itself around my window in the form melted snow, reminding me of the time my mother forced me to go horseback riding at 5:00 AM in California. I fell off the nasty beast named “Party Girl” and cried… I still hate horses.
Day 3: Christmas is over. The madness has seized-… yet I cannot shake this overpowering longing for… something… I know not what it is. I do, however, know it is not the longing for a horse.
Day 2: Now it is truly Christmas and the snow that once silently fell to the Earth is forever gone. I lay by my window lazily awaiting my father’s voice. I wish to open presents. I swear to god if they are horse-themed I will flip my shit. I hate horses.
