Pony Boot Camp — Part Twenty-Two

Vanilla Dreams

Sleep did not come easily for me. Staring into the dark room I tried to blank my mind, but only opened it to the day’s grisly events. I tried to occupy it with pleasant thoughts; funny moments with my flatmate, my favourite music, the smell of a new car. Ere I knew it my silly subconscious had made sinister associations with the Maserati I’d borrowed and the odour of freshly worn leather tack. Eighty-six more days of this, and I would be in need of some serious therapy – if I would be able to lie on a couch, that was.