Pony-tails

She had pony-tails, he thought to himself. He couldn't quite recall what the colour of her eyes had been. Nor the colour of her hair, how tall she was or even the colour of her skin. For some strange reason, he hadn't noticed. But he knew that she had pony-tails.

After a while of thinking, he decided that her hair must have been blonde. Until an inner picture of orange pony-tails filled his mind. However, he soon began to feel uncertain about this too. Her hair was dark, wasn't it? Yes, it was, he told himself. It was brown. Deep-brown. Almost black. When you think of it, it had been black.

Or had it? He wasn't sure. But he knew one thing. She had pony-tails.