My Time in Equestria

by The Stainmore Phoenix

Prologue-Stuck in the Station

Prologue-Stuck in the Station

Baltimare Station, one of the nicer train stations I’ve been to in my 24 years of existence. Then again, I really don’t travel much, because I’m comfortable with what I do and I have no intentions of leaving that state of contentedness.

Right now, though, I’d like to get to my hotel in someplace called Ponyville. Why? Because this human was on vacation and wanted to get away from all the crazy bronies he knew as well as the stress. However, I had missed the last train of the day, so I couldn’t escape from the ports to the real world until 8:25 the next morning.

“At least I have my parlor tricks to keep me entertained and to help me go to sleep,” I mused, sorely.

I had always prided myself with being very strict at timetable keeping. I was never late to a college class, or any game night that I dedicated to relieving the stress. Now, I was ticked off at missing the last train because my boat arrived in port ten minutes later than expected.

The stationmaster was kind enough to let me sleep in the station waiting room. At least that was an improvement from the cabin mates of the ship, who constantly complained about being at sea and the fact that they would be late for their traditional Poker Nights with their friends. I wished that I had friends with me, but they were all “busy”.

‘Lousy cheapskates,’ I thought.

I performed several more parlor tricks, then decided to find someplace cozy to sleep in the station, which was colder than a freezer and the floor was hard linoleum, which made the waiting room feel colder than it really was.

‘Hey, if my church camping trips taught me anything,’ I thought. ‘it’s that I can survive anything that the world has to offer.’

That was true. The reason I bring up the church camping trips I was on, is because of what I’m saying next. I would often times sleep outside the tent, in wet grass with winds that could chill a soda in 22 milliseconds and in a tank top and shorts. Mainly due to the places we camped at were in the mountains and it was supposed to be “summer” but it felt more like a “winter” out of a science fiction novel.

As I scouted out the station for a comfortable place, a thought struck me hard.

“I hope that Princess Twilight Sparkle won’t be cross with me for missing the last train of the day,” I said aloud, glancing down at a piece of paper, with all the arrangements meticulously planned out to the last detail and now I was worrying that the final steps were in danger of being cancelled.

Rereading the arrangements again, tears slid down my cheek. I buried my face in my hands and cried. For the first time, my record for being one up on everything was now in tatters before me.

“Blasted luck,” I sobbed.

After feeling sorry for myself for thirty minutes, I finally decided that I needed cheering up and reached for my laptop, which housed many of my favorite songs. I had done some research and found that the types of songs a person liked often spoke volumes about them and often times were the connecting point, where friendships were made. After all, having something in common with something else was a bonus.

But before I bore you with the entirety of my “favorite songs” folder on my laptop, or any of my research, you want to know what I did to cheer up and bring me out of this state of misery. I found Oliver the Great Western Tank Engine’s season 3 theme and played it on loop for thirty minutes (with headphones on, to keep it silent), then after getting a makeshift bed prepared near the ticket window, I got my “favorite songs” folder opened and after getting it all set up, I made for the bathroom for some last minute fixes.

When I finished, I headed back to my comfortable bed while I was trapped at the station (if it wasn’t already apparent) and prepared for the long night.

“This will be a first,” I said. “Stuck and spending a cold night in a harbor station, here in Equestria.”

With that, I put on my headphones, prepared my music and after all was set in cloth and cover, I played the music and let “Gone Fishing” waft into my ears, and I sang a the song.

When that finished, I was off in dreamland, but not for long. I soon found myself awake again panicking about other delays. Jumping up, I checked the time table and gave an audible groan of horrified disgust. The 8:25 train wouldn’t reach Ponyville until about 12:25 in the afternoon.

“Four hour delays, great,” I hissed.

‘Get a hold of yourself, Brighton!’ I mentally snapped, using my nickname. ‘Everything will work out in the end! You just have to believe that it will!’

I had to believe that things would work out in the end? I then remembered how things had worked out for me in the past, and I began to let the thoughts of having a holiday relax me. So what if the train was going to be four hours late? I had an uncanny ability to make up for lost time and I was going to abuse that in order to keep my sanity. Then again, I had to find ways of not stressing myself out. Music helped, but I decided that reading novels would help me relax even more. Usually, when reading mystery novels, I found that my mind would go over the plan that would stress me out and find cracks in the walls that I could get a wedge in.

Before going back to sleep, I cracked open a mystery novel I had packed and read eight chapters before I yawned and closed the book.

I once again drifted off to sleep, waiting for the sun to rise and bring me good luck in spades, which I needed after all the rotten luck I had today.

“Sunlight brings new hopes,” I drowsily mumbled and slept.