It's kind of my thing to tell stories, so I answered this prompt a little differently. After all, they asked us to think outside of the box! :D Any help would be MUCH appreciated - this is due in an hour, haha!
We passed the girls, just as we had last Sunday and the Sunday before that. They were a vital part of our routine, bustling towards us with their large noses and friendly inquiries. We would always stay a while, allowing them to bump us clumsily as they reached deft tongues out to catch a taste of our faces. Their kisses were sloppy. By the time we said our goodbyes and turned to walk down the lane that led home, they had dispersed, their black and white bodies silhouetted against the cerulean sky. Their chorus of moos was audible even after we had long since left them behind.
Those four-mile Sunday walks shaped my childhood, and laid the framework for the person I would become. I always begged for riding lessons, and my mother managed to scrape together the money for me to have one a week. We couldn't afford to ride the bus home from my lessons, so we walked. At six-years-old, four miles seemed like a hundred, but it was worth it. Sometimes I have rued the fact that I have never had the money to compete on a national level or own several fantastic horses. But in the long run, I'm glad I've always had to work for the ability to do what I love. That has made me all the more appreciative of the opportunities ď both small and monumental ď that have come my way, and it has instilled in me a drive and determination I may not otherwise have. Growing up with extremely limited means has been a gift I would never trade.
We passed the girls, just as we had last Sunday and the Sunday before that. They were a vital part of our routine, bustling towards us with their large noses and friendly inquiries. We would always stay a while, allowing them to bump us clumsily as they reached deft tongues out to catch a taste of our faces. Their kisses were sloppy. By the time we said our goodbyes and turned to walk down the lane that led home, they had dispersed, their black and white bodies silhouetted against the cerulean sky. Their chorus of moos was audible even after we had long since left them behind.
Those four-mile Sunday walks shaped my childhood, and laid the framework for the person I would become. I always begged for riding lessons, and my mother managed to scrape together the money for me to have one a week. We couldn't afford to ride the bus home from my lessons, so we walked. At six-years-old, four miles seemed like a hundred, but it was worth it. Sometimes I have rued the fact that I have never had the money to compete on a national level or own several fantastic horses. But in the long run, I'm glad I've always had to work for the ability to do what I love. That has made me all the more appreciative of the opportunities ď both small and monumental ď that have come my way, and it has instilled in me a drive and determination I may not otherwise have. Growing up with extremely limited means has been a gift I would never trade.
