That night as Naomi laid in her bed the birthday paste felt heavy in her stomach. She could see the outline of the paste factory through her window, puffing dirty clouds of smoke into the dark air. Not at all sleepy, she got out of bed and opened the window. The warm breeze drifted in as she strained her ears to listen. She wondered what horses might sound like.
Then she picked up the horse-flavored T-shirt from her nightstand and felt the fabric, clean and soft in her hand. She raised the shirt to her face and she remembered her birthday wish.