Enough and Enough and Enough.

A week ago, a small rocking horse was left by the bins.

It’s still there.

Initially it stood alongside the row of green and yellow waste containers, at the far end opposite the bottle bank, its head facing the road.

Watching.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Today she is partly hidden between the fifth and sixth containers - two green ones – and her face is hidden.

The rocking horse is female.

Perhaps she turned herself, disgusted at our apathy and insensitivity that has allowed us to continually ignore her.

More likely, one passing neighbour just felt too much guilt.

The one who left her here, hoping that she would be taken to a new home perhaps.

Guilt can be a terrible thing.

If she was wooden, she would have happened already.

But she isn’t.

And she hasn’t.

She is waiting now for visitors to arrive, hoping that one young enough, will complain loud enough, forcing her holidaying parents to give-in enough to her protests.

But they will never take her home at the end of their stay.

They will return her here, confining her to the interior of the non-recyclable containers.

And she will once again be an it.