The Only Perfection There Is Blog Archive on August 27, 2009, 8:00

by Madelaina, age 13

Eyes alert, I waited. My brows shiver with the weight of my furrowed forehead as I invited my senses to survey the horses enveloping me and my Thoroughbred. Doubt was wearisome and inseparable from all thoughts that happened to swim in my mind, staining those once frivolous waters with tides of frowns.

With shaky fingers, anticipation pries open weakening locks, uncaging butterflies. They frisk free, their feathery touches glazing my stomach over with unsettling shivers. I see hair and pelt teased into sheens of arduous idealism, and in return they glare with