FantasyEquine

I always loved the way the glass captured the light, splashing an array of prisms across the wooden floor. Ever since I was a baby, I would stare, captivated, at the figurine for hours. In fact, it was the only reason I liked visiting my grandparents' house. The house somehow managed to be drafty and stuffy all at once, like an old attic clogged with cobwebs and ancient dust. My grandmother always kept the blinds drawn, explaining that light would fade the upholstery on her couch. But with the layers of dust, you could hardly make out the green and gold curls and spirals haphazardly stitched into the mud red background. I hated the darkness