Ok so this is actually a Prose Peice not a story but not a poem so i decided to just put it under poetry and other :)
Dedicated to my friend 'horsebackrider'- check out her awesuum story too! :D 1 girl, five boys (alot to handle)
Song- Let the Sunshine by Labrinth- gets me so pumped and gives me goosebumps and tingles!!
(prose peice) i hope you like it bcuz it shows alot of wat i love, u no the excitement and the adrenaline of the race, the red flag and the flare of my horses nostrils etc :D it just gives me tingles and excitement bubbles in side of me at just the thought of it :P
If u like it pls tell me or i wil delete it to make more room for new stuff :D hehe
vote
comment
FAN!
love u all luvlies and thnku for reading this ! :D this poem, this race, is me, and i love it so much <3
xx
<3
__________________________________________________________________________
I sit abroad the glowing liver chestnut, his nostrils flared in anticipation for the bright red flag to drop. My hands encircle the tight leathery reins, my knuckles lean against his prickly mane and I sit, crouched forward, breathing deeply, steadily. The flag drops, a blur, the fast chestnut sways back on his strong, masculine haunches and leaps forward, propelling us towards the end of the rough dirt lane, a bright white line showing our turning point.
My hands move backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards, fast, to his steady rhythmic thrumming, his legs stretching forward, his eyes flashing white and his mane whips my delicate flesh as I crouch low, letting him extend and run his fastest.
The sweat from his efforts thick in the air, we glide ahead of the other racers, me and my stead, both in the moment and enjoying the sharp, cold wind that hits us with such ferocity and we hold the freedom for what it’s worth.
The turn comes fast, faster than I expected, and I sit back, deep in the brown oiled saddle as his hooves crunch in the dirt, his right shoulder drops and we spin together, the world a blur, until our sights are set back towards the start line. The magnificent chestnut grunts and we are off again gliding past the awed spectators and across the line in first place.
