The hub of “hang out” in this small city is the stadium, and outside is the most magnificent statue I’ve seen in this country: five bronze horses, ready to scatter in five directions.
Each is different, with its own sense of poise and expression. I like to imagine, while observing at golden hour, that each has their own motivation for parting ways.
Carrion, carry on.
All the Pretty Little Horses
Little wisdom tooth was overjoyed; karma-points had apparently been traded for him not to be forcefully evicted from his home.