Freddy, who loved to walk, strolled along the road edge, passed a stallion whose stately neck reached over the paddock fence. Passing its head a said, “Yo, horse.” And was startled by a girly giggle that burst out at his side.
Freddy had not noticed the equally elegant and beautiful young lady who stood next to the horse as he turned and smiled.
“What are you doing talking to a horse?” she queried, “He can’t understand you.” Amanda’s eyes sparkled attractively, and the sun glinted off her golden blonde hair that hung down past her shoulders.
“How do you know?” Freddy challenged, “He understands you. When you call to him, tch, tch, tch, to follow you, he comes, doesn’t he?”
“And when you’re grooming him, you talk to him and he whinnies, puffs his nostrils, and stamps his feet in answer, doesn’t he?”
She nodded again.
“Well, if he can understand you, why not me?”
Freddy was caught in the grip of Amanda’s attractiveness: her dimpled smile, sparkling, fun filled eyes, shimmering golden hair that hung in kiss curls past shapely shoulders, and was in no hurry to move along anywhere.
“I don’t think he really understands me, “she defended, “It’s instinct.”
“How can you say that?” Freddy accused, “When he does what you want him to. Hey, How about a date?”
Amanda giggled again at Freddy’s impertinence, being pleasurably offended by his forwardness, and stared silently at him, refraining to answer.
While Freddy stood, grinning at Amanda across the fence, daring her to refuse, a young, gray striped tabby came strolling through the grass behind her.
Hey, cat,” Freddy called, “How are you?”
“Freow,” the attention loving cat picked up its head, turned in their direction and came purring, rubbing itself against Amanda’s legs.
“That’s great,” responded Freddy. “Yes, it was a pleasantly cool evening. Did you catch any mice?”
Amanda’s musical laughter pealed out over the gentle morning breeze, “Don’t expect me to believe you can understand animals now. You’re absurd, you know that?”
Grinning Freddy knelt down as the cat came under the fence railing, ready to receive any attention it was offered. Freddy spoke to it, and it answered each time so that it appeared as though they were holding a conversation – each seeming to understand the other. Finally Freddy straightened, looked directly at Amanda and queried, “Now, about that date?”
[Noreen, my wife read this story and complained, “You haven’t finished it. I want to know what happened.”
The purpose of this story is to invite you, the reader/writer, to join in and carry it forward. How would you have Amanda answering? I invite you to pick up this story and dream a dream, for that is what story telling is all about. I am sure there are millions of Amanda’s and Freddy’s out there, just waiting for their story to be told. Some will be brief, and others will fill volumes of books. What will happen to your couple? Will we ever find out?
At the time of writing this story, I had another for the weekly challenge on faithwriters.com about the Christmas card November 6th through 11th 2008 for which I had characters, but no names. It became the tragic continuation of Amanda’s story, and the devotion of love. I have yet to write the third part of my story, which, at the moment, is contained in my head.
Happy dreaming, my friends, and may your dreams encourage you to become a prolific writer.]
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