The Andalusian Horse

Standing in front of the horse, he thought of his father. Definitely an Andalusian, he whispered to himself, just like the one my father always wanted. Seeing the horse, standing there in front of him, he remembered every word his father had told him about Andalusian horses. All of the details anyone could know about Andalusian horses had been passed down to him through his father’s words.

So now, staring at the beast’s big eyes, he saw all of the mornings he had walked to school with his father, while his father taught him everything anyone needed to know about those horses he loved so much. The history of the breed, information of place of origin, characteristics, and many other details that came back to him now as he saw the animal in front of him.

Seeing the horse, he saw his own history, the secrets about himself he had learned growing up. The horse’s history, he understood then, was connected to his. The love his father had for the horse, the passion he had had for getting to know the animal, had also had an influence on him. How can an animal I’ve never met before have such an impact on me? He wondered, how can those eyes say so much about me?

The Andalusian horse, the beautiful Andalusian horse, with his imposing figure, his powerful legs, and long, perfect hair to the side, spoke to him, spoke of his father and of his past, and of a simpler time. The horse, a horse he had never seen before, had his life’s history captured in his eyes. So, he smiled, and walked towards the horse. It was time to fulfill his father’s dream, and his too.

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