Today is my friend Georgia’s birthday (she even contributed the ever popular prompt for the poo story!). I love her dearly, and she loves cowgirls, so this is her birthday reward:
There was lots of crime round her dusty town. Scared, she’d disappear into her dreams of being a cowgirl. But she was a sleepwalker and every night she’d walk into the yard and clamber onto her cow, Daisy. Together they rode through the cold desert. No one messed with her or “Desert Daisy”, they thought she was a spirit, sent to scare criminals.
“Cows can’t walk through desert,” they’d say, “and the girl doesn’t even need to see!”
Daisy always returned her to the yard by morning, and she was none the wiser. But she did find it strange that everyone was suddenly making offerings to the cowgirl spirit, and now the store stocked whittled figurines of “action cows.”
freyawrightbrough 