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Around and around I went. Dazed by what my restless eyes were experiencing, an uncomfortable bubble exploded inside of me. It danced through my stomach, tickled my throat and teased my tongue. As my shaking lips departed from one another, it flew from me into the open air. A scream! A scream full of joy and content; shortly followed be a cheeky chuckle. I threw my head back as the small laugh erupted into an unstoppable volcano – I allowed my mousey brown bird's nest to be free, to sway in the wind. "Is this what it feels like to be happy?" I thought.

The stallion beneath me was crafted by magicians. With a silver exterior and purple plaited hair falling from its head, it had instantly become my home. On Harold I felt safe. I felt free. I felt joyous. I lifted my little hand to stroke its beauty and spotted something beneath Harold's right eye. There, carved into the wood, were two letters. Two majestic letters. Two majestic initials. I could fell a new bubble rising deep within, wanting to explode; I controlled myself and let me lips move into an excitable grin instead. This magical place had been made for me.

Suddenly, the spinning stopped. My adventure had come to an end. The heart that was racing as fast as the stallion I was perched upon moments before, slowed down. Two firm hands grabbed me by my bony waist and lifted me from Harold – lifted me from my home. Fear ran through me as I swivelled around to find out who had ruined my happiness. As I realised, one more bubble rose from within me, but this time it needed to explode. As the sound of my scream forced its way out of me, my size 13 feet were lifted from the solid ground and my arms flew to my Grand-pa's neck. My mouth mumbled as it placed a soft kiss upon his rosy cheek. "I love you, Grand-Pa," I sighed, relieved to be in his strong arms again. "Can we go home now?" As my heavy eyelids closed, the smell of sickening candy-floss engorged me, as I gently drifted to another world.

I would miss Harold, as he had provided the perfect home for those long five minutes that my Grand-Pa had not graced me with his presence. But he was not my real home. My Grand-Pa was my home. Home is where the heart is, and my over-excited heart had been placed firmly in his wrinkly hands.