Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response under 300 word (recommended, not law). I will re-blog your post to my site.
Families walked by the statue day after day, glancing over once in a while, maybe more if a child happened to love horses, but often not even a glance. Inside were AC, bathrooms and enough food vendors to keep a family of seven more than happy. Outside when it was hot and muggy or cold and damp, windy, rainy, any kind of weather really, inside was a lot more interesting than the horse in the garden.
Besides, it didn’t look like a real horse. Who’d of ever heard of a flat horse, or one with holes in its body. The deer statues by the door at least looked like real deer, for heaven’s sake.
Roger didn’t care. Roger loved the outside. He loved the heat of the sun and the light of the moon. He loved the cold and the rain and the fog. He loved the bustle of the day and the quiet of the night. In fact, Roger loved everything about his world.
The fish statues near to the parking lot burbled their own kind of laughter as the wind whirled them on their huge weathervane. The old oak statues clustered by the drinking fountain pretended to sway in the wind (but they weren’t really). Still, when Roger pointed that out once, they harrumphed and hawed for days.
Roger paid no attention to any of them. He enjoyed his patch of the gardens, the sweet smell of flowers in the spring and the occasional scent of a hot dog when the doors opened from inside. And sometimes, when a little girl did sneak beyond the hedge to give him a pat, he would smile down at her and whisper horse love into her ear.
Between him and her, that was all that mattered.