The Anarchist (or about how everything i own is covered in a fine red dust)

As The Mother spoke, in the background and dressed in a tanned leather saddle, The Father neighed, bucking on his hind legs and almost knocking over a mantle of statuesque trophies and worldly ornaments, his tedious doldrums turning into reckless aggression as his cloven hooves gnashed at the air. He settled quickly though, and as The Teacher rolled his eyes in annoyance, The Father marched back to his stables, pawing his right hand again in a casual kind of boredom that neared on bashful frolicking, inviting The Mother for an evening canter.

The Anarchist (Or how everything I own is covered in a fine red dust)
₢2014 C.SeanMcGee

*political satire making a god awful mockery of not just the left and right wing, but the whole bloody plane*

coming soon to The Free Art Collection