Seen recently in a dream:
The velvet-helmeted rider steps await from her mount for a moment, off to check some detail before her class is called. She returns to find she cannot swing herself up onto the animal and spur him into the ring; where the horse had stood there is only a horsehide. She picks it up off the ground. It is loose, warm, and empty-seeming. She looks into the eye and sees it looking back, oval-pupilled. Clearly, the animal is still in there, but, balky, as horses can be at a show, he refuses to fill out his skin and let his rider press her legs into his flanks, guide him through his paces and over jumps.
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