Mystic Snippets SIGNS ACROSS THE divide My haunted horse
Charlotte Harris, London
Stuffing hay into my pony’s haynet, I sniffed the air. Cigarette smoke. Somebody was having a cheeky ciggie round the back of the hay barn, by the smell of it.
It was the mid ‘90s and I was 13 years old, living on an English military base with my parents in Germany. I’d adored ponies for as long as
