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“It must be a spell, or perhaps a blow on the head-that thing when you forget everything-amsneezia, is it?” “Amnesia,” said the horse. “Then you can talk!” cried the Prince delightedly. “Of course I can’t,” said the horse. “Whoever heard of a horse talking?” “Oh,” said the Prince. They hurried on, and the track was much steeper now, and the mountains loomed close. Presently, the Prince thought of something. “But you just did.” “No,” said the horse. “But you did talk-there, you did it again.” “You imagined it,” said the horse.” — Tanith Lee
It must be a spell, or perhaps a blow on the head-that thing when you forget everything-amsneezia, is it?”
“Amnesia,” said the horse.
“Then you can talk!” cried the Prince delightedly.
“Of course I can’t,” said the horse. “Whoever heard of a horse talking?”
“Oh,” said the Prince. They hurried on, and the track was much steeper now, and the mountains loomed close.
Presently, the Prince thought of something. “But you just did.”
“No,” said the horse.
“But you did talk-there, you did it again.”
“You imagined it,” said the horse.