Of all the rides, Melanie loved the carousel best. Her favorite horse was Annie. If someone was already riding her, she’d patiently wait for the ride to end rather than choose another horse.
Annie was painted pastel pink and white with bright, smiling eyes. There was something in those eyes that indicated a soul, life. None of the other horses had that look of ‘something more.’ Maybe that’s what drew Melanie in.
One day, Annie wasn’t there anymore. In fact, it was a completely different carousel. We left that day, and Melanie never mentioned Annie or the carousel ever again.
Written for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Photo art courtesy of Ted Strutz.


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