The Unknown Tales: A Collection of Short Stories, One Shots, and More

Porcelain

Aurora brushed her hand against the dusty collection of old porcelain horses each the size of her hand. She brushed the dust from her hand on her pant leg and bent down to observe them closely. Beneath the thick layer of dust she could see infinite detail, the closer she looked the more she could see and the more beautiful they became. Twenty-three wonderfully made horses stood silently in various poses on the small wooden table. Three little foals, each no longer than her thumb and a little over half the height of their respective mother, stood, almost timidly, protected by their mothers. The other twenty were every shape and color imaginable. Deep chestnut browns, creamy whites, purple blacks, shattered white and brown, and vivid red, light grey, and a tentative blue of black and grey and white hairs. They were so life like Aurora could have sworn one blinked. She picked up the largest, a black stallion standing regally at the head of his herd, and wiped the dust off.

"Been a long time since an'one done tha' ta 'im."

Aurora jumped, nearly dropping the porcelain horse. An old man stood beside her holding a beaten and battered broom in one hand and a large box in the other. His scraggly white hair hung in long strands about his face. His face, a strange thing, though old in appearance his face had an ethereal glow of youth.

"Who-who are you?" Aurora asked nervously. The old man laughed.

"Jus' a humble shop keeper trying ta make a livin'." His voice was like church bells on a Sunday morning, ancient yet strong. He stared pointedly at the figure in Aurora's hand. Aurora set it gently on the table and made to walk away.

"Jus' a momen', lass." he said quietly. Something in his voice made her stop. "Yer the first who's dusted 'im off in a good long while."

"Oh?"

"Last lady tha' did didn' wan' em. Lef' em righ' there she did. Ain' nobody touched them since."

"Why?"

"I dunno." The old man looked lovingly at the horses but did not touch the dusty animals.

"Why don't you?" Aurora asked.

"I tried before bu' my fingers don' work like they did. Dropped tha' fella on the ground. Broke his leg clean off. Ain't touched 'em since." He pointed to a horse laying on its side, next to the fallen horse lay half its back left leg. Aurora went to pick him up, paused, looked at the old man. He gestured for her to proceed. She lifted it gently into her palm and brushed the dust away with a thumb. As she did so she noticed wires, thin as a strand of hair, coming from the broken leg.

"What is this?" she asked him.

"Them be wires. These ain' no ordinary porcelain horses. They go' positronic brains in 'em. Like real livin' horses." he paused. "Minus the livin' par'." he added as an afterthought.

"Do they work?" Aurora asked, she was fascinated by the little horses now. Did they really move like real horses?

" 'Course they do! I guarantee their alive righ' now jus' wai'in' ta move! Now, you take 'em home an' clean 'em off an' take good care of 'em." he pushed the box into her hands as soon as she had set down the broken horse and handed her a small box. "This is a repair kit for the broken one. Put 'em all in the box real nice." Aurora obliged and carefully set each individual horse inside the unremarkable wooden box.

"Good, good!" The old man almost skipped toward the door and held it open for Aurora, smiling radiantly.

"Don't I need to pay?"

"Oh no, no, no! They're free. Had 'em so long they ain' no value to me since no one ever wants 'em. Go on. The sooner they're clean the be'er!"

He shut the door quickly behind Aurora leaving her standing in the grey street lined with little shops selling all kinds of goods. She stood there for a minute, perplexed. What a strange man she thought and headed home.