Well, friends, I’m writing this from the emergency room—emotionally, spiritually, and financially.
Please say a prayer for me.
The Incident (As I Lived It)
I had begun the day with optimism. The kind that whispers, Today will be simple. Today will behave.
Feeling bold—reckless, even—I decided to go horseback riding. It had been a long time. A very long time. The sort of long time that erases muscle memory and replaces it with confidence borrowed from youth and bad decisions.
At first, all was calm.
The horse was steady.
The ride was gentle.
My pride was intact.
Then it happened.
The pace quickened.
The wind rushed past.
Time folded in on itself.
Before I could ask sensible questions like why is this happening or where are the exits, the horse took off—full speed, no warning, no consent. I clutched desperately, lost my balance, and felt the cold grip of fate seize my foot in the stirrup as the horse continued its merciless charge.
I screamed.
I hollered.
I negotiated with God, the Universe, and even the devil himself!
The horse did not stop.
Salvation Arrives (Wearing a Red Vest)
Just as I accepted my destiny—to be dragged into legend, lore, and possibly the parking lot—a hero emerged. Not cloaked in armor. Not mounted on another horse.
But wearing the unmistakable uniform of retail management.
The Toys “R” Us manager came running, eyes wide with the understanding of a man who has seen too much, and unplugged the machine.
Yes.
The machine.
He gently removed the remaining quarters from my hand—my dangerous hand—and informed me that for my safety, and possibly for insurance reasons, I would not be riding again that day.
Or ever.
Reflection, Christmas Edition 🎄
Now, some of you may feel confused. Others may feel relieved. A few of you are still reading, which tells me everything I need to know about human curiosity.
Christmas has a way of doing this—drawing us in with sincerity, prayer requests, and dramatic openings… only to reveal that we have been emotionally led through a toy store on a coin-operated horse.
And yet, isn’t that the season?
We come prepared for reverence and end up laughing at ourselves in fluorescent lighting, clutching quarters and dignity in equal measure.
A Gentle Holiday Truth
Not every emergency is an emergency.
Not every horse is a horse.
And not every prayer request ends in stitches.
Sometimes it ends in laughter, self-awareness, and a quiet promise to stop pretending we’re younger than we are.
It is not every morning one prepares for battle with a horse, nor does one expect such a creature to be plugged into a wall between the video games and the clearance aisle. Yet here we are. Life, as it turns out, has a sense of humor—and it shops retail.
Satire Disclaimer
This story is satire.
It is written for humor, seasonal mischief, and to gently remind readers to read to the end before panicking.
No actual emergency room visits occurred.
No horses were harmed.
One ego was mildly bruised.
Please do not forward this as a real prayer request. Or do. Christmas is chaos.
About the Author
A.L. Childers is a humorist, storyteller, and cultural observer known for weaving long-form satirical tales that lure readers in with sincerity before handing them a punchline wrapped in tinsel. Writing in a Dickens/Childers style, she blends warmth, wit, and human folly—because sometimes laughter is the only sensible response to adulthood.
