Creative Writing: I Tied Up The Horse

Have you ever heard of someone falling into a ditch? Well I have it is not very fun. It all started when my friends inv me to go ending with them at Pat Lamar Park.

"Wake up, partners," the trail boss, James called. I sleepily looked up , shivered, and saw I was the only one not up. "Here," James said, giving me the horses' bridles and saddles. "Take these and get the horses ready. We have a long day today." I groaned in reply and set up the horses for the day's long drag. I was the horse wrangler and this was my everyday job but I still couldn't get use to the idea of waking up before the sun and working. We drove the cattle into open plains against the winter's cold wrath.

The cotton fields were a vibrant orange color in the dark, starry night. I stared upon the burning fields as my bloodshot eyes began to sting. The smoke rose up into the night and disappeared making the air thick and oily. The burnt smell rushed up my nose making me gasp for breath. With only a piece of hard bread in my hand I hoped to make it to the north.

In the dusk of a summer Saturday evening, a trickle of light streams through the overhead leaves. One particular horse poses beneath a canopy of towering Adirondack oaks, most of which are only rivaled by the antique racetrack in age. Only a few fans are all that remains of the crowd that adorned the grandstand the hour before, with dreams to witness history. The few that linger lean enthusiastically over the barn barricade that had once struggled to restrain the appreciative masses and masses, only for the opportunity to catch a glimpse of this particular thoroughbred in the distance. But this horse didn’t win today. Today’s victor grazed out of his stall rows down, seemingly unnoticed. The sky, once a brilliant blue, has turned darker with

bracelets, I put a jacket over my cloths so my mom wouldn’t see. Angela didn’t wear her new clothes she just wore a

Standing on his hind legs, this rare andalucian stallion is fearless. His ears are turned back while his noble looking head is held high. His all black coat glistens in the late afternoon sun. His face displays a strong confidence with his nostrils flared, his veins bulging from his cheek bones, and his fiery black eyes burning holes into the souls of those who stare into them. His neck muscles are tensed and thickened with adrenalin. His black main is thrown into the wind like a flag rippling in the winds of a tornado. His muscular front legs are brought up to his chest displaying his flashing gray hooves that could crush a man's scull with one blow. His backbone and underbelly are held almost straight up and his hind quarters are tensed.

On Friday night, the family had a special birthday party for both Carol and her 92 year old father. LaLani, Carol’s caregiver, decorated the private dining room and the Dreamweaver Foundation sent gifts for everyone. Interestingly enough, dad’s gift was a Dreamweaver Money Clip and that was exactly what he needed! As for Carol she had been wishing for months that she could have a snuggly fleece blanket but, felt that the luxury was one she couldn’t afford. Guess what her gift was, a beautiful blue Dreamweaver fleece

During the funeral I realized that the reason why I wasnt there was because if I did go to it I would cry and show my weakness. I am walking through the garden and I heard footsteps, So I hid in a bush and couldn’t make out who they were because it is dark. I grab my sword from its sheath and attack the intruder, It is Roden. He attacked me and cut my stomach, but I fought back. As soon as he had me pinned down he said that I have one week to surrender to the pirates or they would attack Cathia. Roden left once he heard my soldiers running to help me. After the funeral, I went to talk to Mot, he was with King Vargan the King of Avenia. They helped me get bandaged and Mot said something about a steward taking my role as king until I was older,

So if you’re riding a strapping 4 or 5-year-old, keep in mind that his skeleton isn’t fully mature yet! He might not grow visibly bigger, but his body is still developing into its adult form and that may continue until he’s past his 6th birthday. So be careful not to yank his neck or slam on his back. Horses whose backs are still fusing are more vulnerable to back injuries and structural damage from riding.

The moon shone brightly on the dark, empty never-ending road ahead whilst I drove home. The wind kept me company whispering in my ears.

A long long time ago Little red riding hood was told to walk to her grandmas house to give her some aspirin to make her foot ache go away. She has a day to get to grandma’s house and then a day to get back, so all in all she has two days to get there and back if she isn’t back in that time her mom will send out help to find her.

“Get up,” I said, “It’s Christmas!” I bolted downstairs, but only saw one present next to our vibrant tree. I checked who’s initial was on it, but nothing was written on it. I asked Mom and Dad

Poisoned. I lost my best friend on November 11, 2016. He had such a kind heart, no room for cruelty and yet someone poisoned him. The day I met my best friend Sarge I never thought someone’s heart could feel the way mine did. It was like the world had stopped for a second and my heart was full of unconditional love. I never really believed in love until I met him. I know God has a plan and a reason for everything but I still don’t understand. Why him? Why take away the one thing that could bring a smile to my face in an instant?

Plastered on the walls, engraved in our minds, the words sank deeper every time they were viewed by the hundreds of eyes forced to gaze upon them. An ear piercing ring sounded from the clock mounted in the square a monument once stood, and at once, almost like it was orchestrated, we turned and strode across the harbour towards their ageing homes with grocery bags pulling at their elbow sockets.

in a long black coat, stood a man – his eyes pierced her skin as he