A Broken Horse

Cobwebs collected in the old attic. The lonely Childs toy sat alone, forgotten in the dusts of time.
It sat restless, rocking eerily in time to the steady patter of rain drops.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The clouds cleared and the sun came out, pouring through the cracks in the roof. The horse kept rocking as the dripping continued.
Drip. Drip. Drip.