horse wondering
Ali K.
We stopped at a gas station on the road from Casablanca to Imsouane in Morocco.
She played with her hair, twisting the ends then letting them unravel andtossing it back like a mane. In that moment I looked at her with different eyes — I saw my future. I thought about what dress she would wear, whether her Maman would cry. I thought of my father smiling proudly, her papa giving her away.
We stood together looking out at the horse, alone with the empty sky. I thought about our lives. I held her tight and almost whispered my hopes. The horse stopped grazing, looked up at us and wandered away.
I thought of home and the day I would tell her my dreams.
The weather was hot and the sky full of sun, the exact opposite of the current weather in Paris.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, Debra Broughton and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work