When Beth was small her needs were small and easily met. A horsey back ride consisted of getting on daddy’s shoulders as he bounced her around the room. But as she got older those needs became more complex, yet he still felt driven to make sure they were met. From shoulders she moved on to actual horse back riding. Lessons, clothing, and all the other paraphernalia that came with it. Now the need was to actually have a horse of her own. Where was the money going to come for that? One thing he could say about his little girl; she was consistent. Beth never deviated from her desire for all things horse related. Instead of a silver spoon in her mouth, she was born with spurs on her heels and a riding crop on her hand. He smirked as he had his own mother to thank for that. She was quite a horsewoman in her own day.
But back to the sulking sixteen year old in the passenger seat. He thought going to see the Royal Lippizaner Stallions perform would have been a dream come true. And she did thoroughly enjoy watching the beautiful white horses dance around the arena. But then they had to go back stage after the performance, to see the stables and the horses in a more up close environment. That just set her lip to pout the further they strolled down the breeze way. Then they came to a stall that had a ‘For Sale’ sign on it and a gorgeous beast inside. Beth looked at him with those liquid gold eyes that he was always powerless to deny. But the price on the sign did that for him. The number was so obscene he didn’t even remember it. But she did; and she didn’t think it was all that bad of a bargain.
Her eyes stared out of the car at nothing in particular as they drove home. She was giving him the silent treatment and he was feeling the full effects. Finally, he felt the need to break the silence.
“Did you not like the show?”
“Of course I did, daddy. I was just expecting something a little more.”
“Didn’t I promise you a horse filled day?”
“Well, yeah. it’s just that . . .”
Here it comes.
“ . . . I thought maybe you were getting me a horse.”
“We’ve been through this before.”
“It’s just not possible right now.”
“So are you saying I broke my promise to you?”
“No.” Then silence again for several moments. “Today was just a cracked promise.”
– – – – – –
This bit of nostalgia came from Inspiration Monday at BeKindRewrite.
There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.
No really; I need rules!
Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.
DON’T LOOK UP
SNAKE OIL BARON
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