Friday, November 19, 2010

Little Black Stallion

I must have been about seven or eight.  
I was in second or third grade.  
I know I was old enough to walk home from school by myself, and yet I was still a little bit afraid.


But, I had a secret friend.  
Someone who could keep me safe.  
Someone who I could talk to if I wanted.  


I kept him in my desk at school during the day, and in my hand or pocket when I walked to school and back. (We didn't have backpacks.)


He was a small, black, plastic horse.





He was magnificent,  strong and brave. 
He was mine.




One day my teacher caught me talking to him.  
She took him away.  
We were not allowed to bring toys to school. 


I don't remember how long she kept him.  It probably was only for the rest of that day, but I was devastated.  


He was my magic. My Black.


I remember she told me to leave him at home, or I she would take him away for the rest of the year!


I did. 
 School was not safe anymore.


Audio Version: Merikay tells the Story

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