The creation of a thoroughbred can be much like the creation of a fine painting. You start with an idea; plan it out; find your materials; work your butt off; and by the end of it all you might just come out with a remarkably beautiful picture, ready to sell or keep for your very own. Smiling inwardly at this thought, Sarah�Or ‘Moochi,’ as she was often called by friends and peers�pushed and pulled with all of her might to get the first of the giant, dusty, old, paint-chipped and weather beaten, double-doors that opened up to the building she had dubbed the ‘Racing Barn.’ After she managed to open the first door, the second was more of a challenge, and she had to get down on her knees and brush away the dirt and debris from underneath the door a bit before it would budge. Then, blowing at the tendrils of her long, dark-brown hair that had managed to pull lose from her bun, she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, her analytical hazel eyes gazing into the dark. Still trying to catch her breath, she entered the building and leaned against the wall as she found the light switch and flicked it on. Dusty overhead lamps flickered slowly, like lazy fireflies, and she sighed at the work ahead of her. So. Much. Dust. She bit her bottom lip and wondered for the sixteenth time, just what she’d gotten herself into, for there was far more than just dust to worry about on this old farm…
The place had lain abandoned since the first owner had died: nearly thirty years ago. It had stayed in the hands of the former owner’s family, although they had never used the land or the buildings, keeping it only for sentimental value more than anything. But, after passing into the hands of newer generations, they had discovered the value in their property, and decided to sell the old heap. Dipping heavily into her savings (money she had received through selling paintings, receiving commissions, and doing a little freelance journalism and photography), Moochi had managed to put a down payment on the place that was small enough for her budget but apparently large enough to delight the former owner’s family. She had moved into the two-story, white-trimmed, blue farmhouse on the hill (with a perfect view of the barns and the workout track) six weeks later. But, when she arrived, and finally took an honest look at the damages that had seemed so minor when she had first looked at the place, she began to feel panicked.
A few of the paddocks, as well as the workout track, had rotting wooden fences that would need to be entirely replaced. The building she had dubbed the ‘Stallion Barn,’ had holes in the roof, and the ‘Foaling Shed,’ had horrifically expensive water damage. The ‘Yearling and Weanling Barn’ was alright except for the tractor-sized hole in one wall that looked as if a frenzied mare had launched herself through to reach her scared baby. The ‘Broodmare Barn’ and the ‘Racing Barn’ were the only buildings that seemed to be in fairly good shape, although the Broodmare Barn had a few minor electrical problems. It would be a long time, and a labor of tough love, before ‘Artful Acres,’ Moochi’s dream racing farm, was fully operational. But, in the meantime, Moochi took care dusting, cleaning, and fixing what she could, sure that one day she would be rewarded for all the work she had put into the place.
Checking her watch, she grinned and surveyed the outcome of her efforts. It had taken her nearly four hours to do it, but she had managed to get a ladder from the garage and clean the lamps, sweep the aisles of dust and dirt, and fix the latches on a couple of the stall doors. Moochi’s back and shoulders were aching, and her arms and legs were on the verge of falling off–but she was happy. Suddenly, she heard the sound of a car-horn, and she jumped, her eyebrows shooting upward. She had almost forgotten what time it was… THE HORSES! She started heading towards the open double-doors, her beat-up leather paddock boots making loud thumps on the hardwood floors (would the floors break under her if she stepped on them hard enough? She wondered…). Squinting in the sunlight, she put a hand up to cover her eyes and waved to the blue Dodge pickup truck with the beige horse trailer hitched on the back, watching as they slowly came to a stop on the long dirt road that lead from the house and onward to the main road.
Moochi didn’t wait for the car-door to open, or the young man inside to step out, but flung the door open herself and grabbed the Dodge’s inhabitant in a crushing hug.
�Sethyboo!� She laughed, as the young man wheezed, his grey-blue eyes flashing with amusement, and his nose wrinkling with his own tender smile. Moochi ruffled the cropped light-brown hair of the young man, and he kissed her on the cheek, causing her face to flush slightly.
“Moo, Moo!� He finally replied when she released him (and he could breathe again), grinning ear-to-ear. “How’s the farm coming?� He glanced around before looking back at her face expectantly. She shrugged, her face suddenly solemn.
“Oh Seth… I have so much work cut out for me. If I get just the fences alone repaired by the end of the year, I’ll be horrendously lucky.� She sighed and stepped back as he came out of the truck. What he did next surprised her. Grabbing her by the waist, he half-lifted her off the ground and twirled her around a few times before setting her down again and looking her squarely in the eye. After she was done laughing and punching him in the arm playfully, he spoke again.
“Don’t look so glum, chum. I knew you’d bitten off more than you could chew when you showed me the pictures of this place. But, I knew you had your heart set on it, so I said nothing.� Seth tapped the girl on the nose, and she looked at him quizzically. “While you were busy dreaming and making plans, I made a few plans of my own, and even did a little asking around. I think I might have found a good electrician who doesn’t charge anything too unreasonable, and a couple of nice prospects for contractors to help us fix up this place.� Seth found himself tackled again by the 5’ 4� ball of hyperness, and even got a kiss on the lips for his trouble. Breathless, he blinked. “Uh, I take it you’re happy?�
“Tremendously, fanatically, ecstatically happy!� She exclaimed, and gave him the most dazzling smile she could muster. “You always think of everything!� In reply to this, he rubbed the back of his head and chuckled in an ‘aw, shucks’ manner.
At that moment, a flea-bitten grey head with a white blaze down the middle, appeared out the window of the horse trailer and nickered.
“Oh, duh!� Moochi said, chuckling. “We forgot the horses.� She grabbed Seth by the hand and tugged him towards the back of the trailer. He opened the doors to the trailer as Moochi preoccupied herself by waving to the horse, cooing over how beautiful she was. When both Moochi and Seth entered the trailer, they each led out one horse�Seth taking the gorgeous flea-bitten grey filly, and Moochi cautiously following with a handsome grey colt. They led each horse into their new stalls, which Moochi had provided with fresh bedding, water, and a little feed that morning, and then both humans relaxed on the polished wooden bench (the one Moochi had found in the garage soon after moving in and decided it was too pretty not to use), and simply watched the horses. Before long, she leaned her head on his shoulder and he took her hand, and together they remained that way, still gazing at the horses as they sniffed their new surroundings. Upon deciding it suitable enough, the horses too, began to settle in, and a feeling of calm drifted over the people and horses.
After another long moment, Seth closed his eyes and leaned his head on Moochi’s lap, while she found herself unable to look away from her new horses. How perfect they looked in their new home. The flea-bitten grey filly, MusicboxDancer, whom was kin to Deputy Minister and Mr. Prospector, was incredibly tall for a two-year-old (or a filly for that matter), and she would only get bigger. The one who had been her travelling companion, the grey three-year-old colt, Rock Runner, was kin himself to Forty Niner, and although he was shorter than the filly, what he lacked in height he made up in muscle mass. Both were extremely wise buys, if she did say so herself, and she was sure they’d make her proud. Unable to smile anymore, because her cheeks were beginning to hurt, she smiled inwardly instead, her hazel eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Welcome to my studio,� Moochi whispered to the horses, whose eyes were beginning to close with fatigue, and she rested her head on the wall behind her, closing her own eyes and giving herself over to sleep.
EDIT: I am not entirely pleased with this… I know I left out a lot, and some of it is really confusing. There’s also the fact that I am horrible with grammar (and this from someone who wants to be a writer/editor/publisher someday XD ) and I am comma-crazy. And oh, the rampant melodrama! 
But, hopefully I’ll get better with the next one… Thank you for reading! :3)) 