Horace was a retired riding instructor with a raspy, worn-out voice—permanently hoarse from decades of shouting encouragement across muddy fields. His best friend was an aging racehorse named Whinny, who had gone just as quiet as Horace.
“The name stays,” Wren muttered, impressed despite herself. “But I’m adding a spa.” horaceshoarsehorsewhores
Horace tried to object, but his hoarse voice came out as a faint croak. Whinny, however, let out a sudden, startling whinny—loud and clear as a bell. Horace was a retired riding instructor with a
Here is a short, original story that plays with these homophones in a clever, family-friendly way: ” Wren muttered