Here is an example of my writing.
As a die-hard cowboy in the wild west, I have always been drawn to the freedom and excitement of riding horses. Growing up with four brothers, I was always the adventurous one, throwing caution to the wind and never backing down from a challenge. So when my little sister, Trouble, came into our lives, I couldn't wait to pass on my love for horses to her.
It was the year 1989 and Trouble was a spunky 5-year-old with eyes full of wonder and a heart full of courage. Bobby Lincoln, that's me, was a 29-year-old cowboy with a lightly tanned skin, rugged features, and a spirit that craved nothing but the open plains and a good horse to ride.
On that particular sunny morning, I saddled up my favorite horse Venom, a pure black thoroughbred, and led him out of the barn. I could hear Trouble's excited chatter as she followed me, her tiny boots stomping against the dusty ground.
'Can I ride Venom today, Bobby?' she asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.
I chuckled and ruffled her curly hair. 'Not just yet, little one. We have to work on your basics first,' I replied, trying to contain my own excitement.
Trouble pouted, but she hopped onto her pony, Daisy, and followed me to the corral. I placed her in the saddle and went over the basics of riding – how to hold the reins, how to steer and how to mount and dismount. She was a quick learner, absorbing every word I said with enthusiasm.
After a few rounds in the corral, I decided she was ready for her first ride with Venom. I could see the excitement and fear in her eyes as she climbed onto his back, but I knew she would do just fine.
I mounted my own horse and we set off, her pony trotting close behind. We rode out into the open plains, the wind in our hair and the sun shining down on us. Trouble was ecstatic, her laughter echoing through the air as she tried to mimic my every move.
We galloped through the tall grass, Venom's powerful hooves pounding against the ground. I could see the joy in Trouble's face, her fear long forgotten as she embraced the thrill of riding.
As we reached the edge of a cliff, I pulled Venom to a stop, and Trouble followed suit with Daisy. We dismounted and made our way to the edge, taking in the breathtaking view of the land below.
'Wow, Bobby, this is amazing!' Trouble exclaimed, her eyes shining with wonder.
I smiled and wrapped an arm around her, feeling proud of how far she had come in just one morning. I couldn't wait to see how much more she would grow as a rider.
That day marked the beginning of Trouble's journey as a horse rider, and she never looked back. She became an expert rider, just like her big brother, and even won several races on her beloved Venom.
But beyond that, it was the bond that formed between us that made that day so special. A bond that would last a lifetime. A bond between a cowboy and his little sister, who he taught to ride and showed the true meaning of freedom in the wild west.
Spring 
Day 
Flood
