“Dakota, I thought I told you to go get dressed and help your father in the Fourth Sector? You know how his eyes have been acting up lately? All I need is to get angry phone calls again. You know how much The Voice hates when that happens?”
“Aww mom, make Austin go. He loves doing that stuff and at least dad doesn’t bore his head off. Besides, I was gonna take Tex for a walk,” she replied, as if I don’t know how to take myself for a walk. I’m always walking around this place, I know it inside and out. I probably could find my way around here better than any one of them blindfolded, but I won’t tell them that. Dakota’s mom, Lillian, put her hands on her hips, like she always does when she means business. “Ugh, fine!”
Continue reading “Meet the Dalrymple’s”
The first time I stepped hooves onto an official racetrack was a few days after my third birthday and I was naïve, to say the least. My trainer, jockey, and if I’m being honest, best friend as well, Kat, made me feel like I could do anything, including win by more than a nose my first day. She was wrong and I was humiliated. I came in third place, which you might think isn’t all that bad for a first timer like me, and under normal circumstances it would’ve been if I hadn’t opened up my big horse mouth and promptly placed my hoof in it.
Upon entering the gate, I let the other horses know just who they were up against. I spared no expense throwing my weight around and bragging about my practice times back home. I knew nothing about my odds, nor was I aware my gate was situated next to the horse to beat, Stampede.
Continue reading “Frisco at the Gate”
“Mr. Smith? Time to get up Mr. Smith.”
I could hear a sweet voice echoing in the distance for me to wake up. I reach a hand up to my head which feels like a grenade blew up inside of it. A bright light overhead hurts my eyes before I’ve even opened them. I point and moan towards the overhead light, keeping my eyes tightly shut. Why can’t I speak?
Continue reading “The Eternal View”
The sounds of a party were evident to any passersby along the dirt road. The only discernible path to Parker Manor, the scattered cobble stones strewn about the ground. As Savannah neared the house she stumbled on a stone, nearly losing her balance and falling to the ground, as she became distracted, looking up at the nearly dead tree situated in front of the house, where the noose still hung. Seeing it brought back memories for her that she was trying to forget. But she squared her shoulders, turned away from the menacing tree, and continued walking towards the house. The sun was just beginning to fall from the sky, shining brightly on her caramel colored skin, casting a long shadow that reached the front porch before she did.
Continue reading “The Hanging Tree”