Nikki knew better because she wasn’t a little girl anymore, well, she almost knew better, she thought she’d try one more angle before she abandoned her romantic hopes completely over this particular kind of stallion. Maybe it was the music playing or the undulating movement hypnotizing her to ride, but whatever it was, Nikki relented to the magnificent creature, knowing he was not a real stallion and yet hoping that if she just whispered to him the secrets of how to be a real stallion, he would break free from the gelded carousel and they could ride off into the sunset. Her own intuition instantly smirked at that one but Nikki avoided it by leaning back with stretched arms and just curled her fingers around the pole that went through the middle of the stallion. He could not see the pole, of course, but Nikki could, and yet she ignored the plastic reigns and concentrated on the breeze in her hair instead as she closed her eyes and tried to enjoy the ride. The beast seemed proud to be chosen and he communicated to her what he thought was beautiful and important and he bade her to stay with him always; the poor thing was tired of new riders and wanted one single one forever. Nikki smiled at him as the music played and they went round and round; she smiled and tried to encourage the carousel horse to be a real stallion before the music stopped. The horse made a silent whinny, showing his beautiful teeth and a bridle molded magnificently just like the rest of him, she thought, as she touched his perfectly hard, wind swept hair. He was beautiful, his profile rivaled the musculature of any stallion and for all the impressive posturing, he hadn’t understand a single word she said. The music stopped and Nikki climbed down for the last time, accepting that wishes didn’t change carousel horses into real ones. Nikki would remember him fondly but she needed a real stallion, not one that just stood there beautifully.
BIO: Olive Rosehips parents actually named her Rhonda Monique and she looks to quotes to make sense of things. She believes as Leonardo da Vinci says, that "There are three classes of people: "Those who see. Those who see when they are shown, and those who do not see." She also has a thing for horses so this story was destined to be written. Apologies to any carousel horses who may think they recognize themselves in this fiction, this fiction is not intended to offend. Olive writes to clear her mind because painting her toe nails vivid shades of red doesn't always complete her. Olive is a published author, whose short stories and poetry appear in magazines and books. She blogs creatively at http://oliverosehips.blogspot.com/ and http://pentenscribes.ning.com/ .