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I Didn’t Like Horses

I miss you.

 I miss you too, who are you?

You know me.
 
I know, who are you?

Nevermind. What do you want to talk about today?

I guess, let’s talk about something that makes me remember you.

You used to say you’d only be with me until I was old enough to tie my shoes.

Can you tie your shoes?

Yes I can tie my shoes.

Well I’m still here but I don’t remember you.

Do you remember space mountain? I was just big enough and you convinced Grandma to let me ride with you, but I was so scared I closed my eyes and bit your hand the whole time. It was at Disneyland. You got so sick afterwards, you said you’d never go on another rollercoaster in your life. But you loved me so much you did go on others with me even though they made you sick.

Disneyland . . . like Goofy?

Yeah like Goofy.

And Mickey and the castle with the princess, you look a little like a princess.

You called me your little red bird, but never your little princess, I was never very princess like.

No . . . you weren’t were you.

No.

But I never minded that.

No you didn’t.

I don’t remember you, but I like you little red bird. Your hair’s not red.

It used to be, when I was little.

And you were smart too.

I guess I was smart.

No you were always smart.

How do you know, you don’t remember me.

I just know.

Remember the panthers and the stick people?

I don’t know, did you like horses?

No, that was Jackie. It’s ok why don’t I just read to you some?

What would you read me? Something you wrote?

You remember that?

No I don’t know why I said that, you write?

Yes. Sometimes.

I asked you to write a story about a panther didn’t I?

Yes.

For children, a children’s story, Big Kitty Black.

Yes.

Did you ever do it?

No, I mean I started it. I never finished, you got sick, I couldn’t finish it.

You stood on my brief case. And went to school in New York.

Yes.

I remember you, little girl. I remember a girl named Georgia too, and that song always reminds me of her, Georgia on my mind. She was Hawaiian. Don’t tell your Grandma. You know that don’t you?

I know.

I love you, you know that?

Yes. I love you too.

Do you think I need a haircut?

No I like it this way.

Who are you?

I’m Emily.

Where’s Betty?

Betty’s not here anymore.

Where’d she go?

To the store.

Call her and tell her to get me some ice cream girl.

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About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

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