The story grows darker as little Karen faces the possibility that Pegasus may never again come alive for her. But don’t worry! She gets through it before the chapter ends.

Scene 09: Kitten Sees Pegasus in a Receding Tunnel

When Karen arrived at the hippodrome, she saw that it was fenced off. It was empty and noiseless. It was filled with a silence that the calliope had always kept hidden. The loudness of that silence deafened her, in contrast to the happy sounds of the Sunday crowd that surrounded her. The void and the emptiness overwhelmed her. She felt exposed and open to her darkest fears. Wounded in mind, body, and soul she had to sit down. She collapsed onto a nearby bench.

This is not the same, anymore. Something has to be done to save Pegasus and the other horses. I know they are only wooden, but Pegasus has a soul and is alive in his own way. I have to help them, somehow! I have to do something! I have to at least try!

Forcing herself to her feet, she squeezed through a gap in the fence and pushed against the hippodrome door. It did not move. She pulled the handle with all her strength, but it would not budge. Leaning against the window, she strained her eyes peering into the gloom within. There, in the distance, was Pegasus, carelessly tossed atop a pile of wooden horses.

She felt her sadness lift for a moment as she saw him, but then the scene seemed to change. The interior of the hippodrome became a mysterious tunnel. Shadows from the darkened area around him washed over Pegasus, almost burying him in a hazy, obscure half-light. Cognizant that her anxious imagination had taken over her perception, she watched as he and the others became smaller and smaller in the perspective of the tunnel.

Leaning her weak left shoulder against the glass, she waved with her strong right hand.

“Pegasus! Oh, Pegasus! Psst! Can you hear me? Can you hear me calling you? It’s me, Karen, your Kitten. Say something to me if you can, please!”

He did not answer her. He was as quiet and as motionless as the merry-go-round that his soul had left behind.

©2021, Karen Lynn-Chlup. All rights reserved.