Neve

« In riding a horse we borrow freedom. » Helen Thomson ❅ It shines and twirls, carried by the wind. Neve had brown-gold hair, tapered fingers and a sharp gaze. The other little girls dreamed of being princesses, having cool dresses and modern smartphones to take selfies. But Neve didn't have any dream like that because her own life was a dream itself where she rode her ponies. There were nor smartphones in her world, she used to share any magic moment with the ponies with whom she loved running happy and free. I could hear her talking to them and it seemed like they were going to answer, with attentive eyes and straight ears. There were enchanted by this little princess whose kingdom was the wide ground around the stables, and whose treasure was the greatest as it was possible to have: happiness. Happiness is a simple thing.