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Drums of the City Rain1,081 words
Sister (Speedwrite Edition)811 words

Sister (Speedwrite Edition)

The rain is like a drum. It beats a steady cadence as it hits the ground, driving along the symphony that only she can hear.

No, that isn’t quite right. Vinyl Scratch sips her coffee, hanging onto the thought for a moment longer before letting it slip away. She looks through the glass pane window at the rain, as it hits the sidewalk, the little drops making ripples in the puddles.

The rain is like an orchestra. It rises and falls in its own tempo, speeding up and slowing down.

Not quite. Vinyl blinks slowly, her gaze travelling upwards towards the dark gray clouds. A flash of lightning illuminates the city, followed by the crack of thunder. The rain falls harder, drenching the streets outside.

The rain is like…

“Sorry about that.”

Vinyl turns away from the window as Octavia slides back into the booth. “Where’d you go?”

“To the phone,” Octavia replies. “She didn’t pick up. It’s not like her to be late.” She shifts nervously, glancing at the dreary world outside. The gaslights throw a shade of hazy light against the floor that’s almost completely drowned out by the rain. “It’s not like her. She’s usually very punctual… and she was very eager to see me again.”

“Oh.”

Octavia gets up again. “I’m going to call my mother. She might know.”

Vinyl nods, and Octavia slips away. She sips her coffee again.

The rain is like… the rain is like a river that falls from the sky.

Well, of course it is. They’re both made of water, aren’t they? Vinyl shakes her head, mentally crossing the simile from her mind.

She turns her attention to the crowded cafe and lets it all sink in. There’s the happy chatter of the other patrons, the clinking of silverware and voices from the kitchen. An overburdened waitress weaves her way in between the sea of tables and chairs, balancing a tray on her head.

The rain is like an ocean.

That’s not any better than the river one, Vinyl decides. Her eyes move across the room until they settle on Octavia, standing on the far end of the room. She holds a phone to her ear and shifts on her hooves nervously.

The phone booth is weathered and worn, with some graffiti carved into its side. The number pad is worn and faded, and the phone book hanging from its side is missing its cover.

The rain is like a fire. It’s both a beautiful and a horrible thing. It cleanses and washes away, but it brings with it life.

She likes that one. But it’s a bit lengthy and could be better.

There’s a lot of color in the cafe. The floor is made of red and white tiles, and the walls are decorated with colorful photographs. The ceiling is a dull white, not quite as vibrant as her own coat.

The reds are bright, though. It reminds her of that apple orchard on the edge of Ponyville.

Vinyl looks at Octavia again. She holds her other forehoof to her ear, trying to block out the noise of the cafe. She can’t quite make out what Octavia’s saying. But she can see that Octavia’s biting her lip. Her eyes are darting from side to side. She speaks fast and stumbles through her words.

“...Fiddle? Where… do you mean?”

She can’t make out the rest of her words.

Vinyl looks outside again. A pony in a raincoat rushes by, head low and mane blowing from the wind. She wonders for a second where he’s going.

The rain is like a lover. It brings life wherever it goes.

That’s not exactly true. Vinyl looks down into the brown murkiness of her coffee as if something inside will stare back at her. Nothing does, of course. That’d be ridiculous. She swirls the cup a little bit and the liquid goes splashing against the sides of the mug.

The rain is like… the rain is like life. It starts and it ends, like all things. And it has its highs and its lows, like every good storm. It gets better sometimes and it gets worse other times.

She likes that.

Vinyl looks at Octavia again. Is she… crying? Octavia swipes at her eyes, barely getting the words out. Her body shakes as tears stream out of her eyes.

Someone in the booth behind Vinyl laughs.

Vinyl slides out of the booth and makes her way towards Octavia. She almost hits the waitress, who offers an apology even though it wasn’t her fault.

A pair of foals on her right start crying, as their mother tries to calm them down.

Octavia repeats something she said.

An elderly couple in front of her gets up, having finished their meal.

The rain is like…

As Vinyl gets closer to Octavia, she can make out two words.

“... killed herself?”

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