*CRACK*
... and there she was fully formed from an old discarded eggshell left under my bed. I had made breakfast in bed for Darryl one sullied spring morning and in the tryst that followed, certain decorative breakfast paraphernalia launched and fell to the ground.
Quickly rolling toward the massive dust bunnies, the only former inhabitants of the abode save the occasional loose sock or balled up kleenex from cold and flu season, the shell settles into a pouch of secrecy and waits.
Fast forward ten aching months of solitude, fortitude and the good fortune of lazy housekeeping habits, and the day finally came for the Little Horsey Girl to enter this world...
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