Trigger (thing)

Oh, Trigger.

I remember visiting this museum place called Mahler Museum back when I was ten or so. It was on a day when we were going around and visiting various places, such as the city hall, the water-treatment plant, and the library, but this isn't about the trip. It's about Mr. Trigger, the rocking horse on the second floor.

Trigger was an old rocking horse, looking to be at least one hundred years old. Was about two and a half feet tall, maybe three and a half wide, and, no matter his size, was dang scary. Was made out of some material I have now forgotten and couldn't figure out at the time or even after revisiting the place, but was gray. He had no eyes, only light brown empty disks where they should have been. He had coarse black hair for a mane, and had on a bridle of red leather. Also on Trigger was a seat for some kid to sit on, but what kid would willingly sit on a toy demon horse I have no idea. Meh. He also was in the little boys' room, to the left of the doorway, with one eye against the wall and the other staring outward at the other stuff in the room. Scary stuff.

Three years later, I returned to the museum to see Trigger again, to refresh my memory after about seven dreams of me returning to the museum, either by force or by me wandering inside, to see him again, only I'd use extremely mild lucid dreaming to never get a good look at Trigger in the dreams out of silly fear. Geez. Even this time, I couldn't force myself to get a good look at Trigger. Upon exiting a small mens' library in the museum on the way to Trigger, I glimpsed at an angle. Just then, I got overwhelmed with the excitement of seeing him again, yet afraid at his scary appearance, and the relief of having my occasional dream of Trigger-san fulfilled...

I couldn't enter the room. It was too much.

So I basically told Mom to take some pictures of Trigger for me, tossing my disposable camera at her. She did so, snapping shots of the rocking horse, both from how most people would look at it, and also from an angle a bit closer to directly in front of him that sort of foreshortened him in a way that made him look even worse. I cannot correctly describe this. You had to be there to see him from that angle.

I don't know why I'm not willing to scan the pictures. Maybe it's because he scares me so. At least it's over now, though other kids and even adults would also be scared of Trigger. No one else, however, reported the same overwhelming almost indescribable emotion I had. Maybe they're just not so weird.