124

During my high school years, I spent two years learning horse riding. Being tall, I needed a bigger horse. That's how I met 124. He was one of the oldest horses in the stable. While other horses were faster and stronger, 124 had a gentle nature that suited a beginner like me. We built a quiet understanding - I learned when he wanted to run, when he needed rest. Even the coach noticed how happily 124 moved with me. After each lesson, I'd give him an extra carrot.

Then one day, the coach introduced me to No.9 - a powerful, energetic horse. Riding him was thrilling, like driving a sports car. But something felt missing. After training, I went to visit 124 with a carrot. His stall was empty. I left the carrot there, hoping he'd find it later.

Soon after, I stopped riding to focus on studies. When I returned months later, I learned 124 had passed away. The coach had been waiting for the right time to tell me. On the way home, I couldn't stop my tears.

The coach told me 124's story - he was once a champion racehorse, retired after an injury. Now I understand why we connected so deeply - two souls at different stages of life, understanding each other without words. I've kept a sketch of 124. His calm eyes still seem to hold all those quiet afternoons we shared together.