I could not believe it. A gosh dawrn unicorn. For sale. Suzy would neither believe it or ever need another fucking birthday present again. That’s five awesome gifts in a row, each improving upon last year’s request.
Ponies are something that all little girls long for. Ponies with long, shiny manes and soft, fuzzy fur. Marketers capitalized on this with My Little Pony, a toy from the 80s that has found new life today. Colorful bodies with extra bright hair to match; a little girl’s dream.
Claire
I gave her a pony… but I bought it before she was born, before I met her mother, before I even thought about actually having kids.
I saw it’s beautifully stained wood, it’s natural hair, it looked like something my grandmother had as a kid…
I wanted to give her a memory she would have forever. I gave her a pony
William Gruber
The confusion of the sounds of war blasted through the relative peace of the fragile morning. Bombshells exploded and sent dozens of men careening to the floor, clutching their chests in dismay. A poisonous cloud of green smoke rolled slowly across the plain towards the warriors. Those who carried nothing screamed and raced back as fast as their legs could carry them; those who were lucky enough to have a gas mask fumbled for the life-saving object, worrying that every breath would be their last. And there were the war horses: a motley mix of young ponies, old mares, and enraged stallions. Their riders had died for various reasons: struck by an unlikely bullet, taken by the poison that lingered in the air, bled out from shrapnel wounds. The war horses raced around the field, whinnying in defiance, unaware that they were carrying cold corpses on their backs.
ponies are like little horses, little horses that live in petting zoos. ponies are gifts for pretend princesses. princesses are only a figment of our imaginations…what is there in a bloodline? isnt all humanity the same???
I can remember back to when I was a little girl..sitting, gazing at the pony. Now that I look back on it, I think at one point every little girl wanted a pony. Like everything else though, I didn’t get it. I never got anything. I had nothing. The memories of my past are silent reminders that the world is not fair and not only is the world not fair, it is everchanging but everyone gets theirs in the end.
I am now 25 and I have my pony.
I could not believe it. A gosh dawrn unicorn. For sale. Suzy would neither believe it or ever need another fucking birthday present again. That’s five awesome gifts in a row, each improving upon last year’s request.
on
my birthday
every year,
i wished for
a pony
but
i
never
got
one
Ponies are something that all little girls long for. Ponies with long, shiny manes and soft, fuzzy fur. Marketers capitalized on this with My Little Pony, a toy from the 80s that has found new life today. Colorful bodies with extra bright hair to match; a little girl’s dream.
I gave her a pony… but I bought it before she was born, before I met her mother, before I even thought about actually having kids.
I saw it’s beautifully stained wood, it’s natural hair, it looked like something my grandmother had as a kid…
I wanted to give her a memory she would have forever. I gave her a pony
The confusion of the sounds of war blasted through the relative peace of the fragile morning. Bombshells exploded and sent dozens of men careening to the floor, clutching their chests in dismay. A poisonous cloud of green smoke rolled slowly across the plain towards the warriors. Those who carried nothing screamed and raced back as fast as their legs could carry them; those who were lucky enough to have a gas mask fumbled for the life-saving object, worrying that every breath would be their last. And there were the war horses: a motley mix of young ponies, old mares, and enraged stallions. Their riders had died for various reasons: struck by an unlikely bullet, taken by the poison that lingered in the air, bled out from shrapnel wounds. The war horses raced around the field, whinnying in defiance, unaware that they were carrying cold corpses on their backs.
I stare at the ponies, wishing they could be human.
ponies are like little horses, little horses that live in petting zoos. ponies are gifts for pretend princesses. princesses are only a figment of our imaginations…what is there in a bloodline? isnt all humanity the same???
I can remember back to when I was a little girl..sitting, gazing at the pony. Now that I look back on it, I think at one point every little girl wanted a pony. Like everything else though, I didn’t get it. I never got anything. I had nothing. The memories of my past are silent reminders that the world is not fair and not only is the world not fair, it is everchanging but everyone gets theirs in the end.
I am now 25 and I have my pony.