What is something when it isn't sad, but it also isn't happy? · 10:36pm Sep 13th, 2017
Breakfast was a thick, hearty oatmeal filled with chewy bits of stewed fruit. Boxcars awoke feeling mostly fine, but the condition of her brother made her worry, despite Bertie’s near-constant reassurances. Sitting at the table, Boxcars watched as Bertie patiently spooned in bite after bite of the nourishing oatmeal, and her brother’s ears bobbed as he chewed up the rubbery fruit-bits.
Across the table, Cactus was reading a newspaper, and when Boxcars turned to look at him, she was hit by a powerful wave of memory, an incoming tide from an almost forgotten time. Her father too, read the paper at breakfast, and her mother was always chiding him that he needed to eat. At some point, the chiding and the scolding would become too much, and her father would rise from his chair, sweep up her mother into a tender embrace, and dance with her around the room.
The incoming tide caused Boxcar’s vision to blur over—everything in the room around her became rather fuzzy—and some of the waves went rolling down her cheeks in the form of salty tears. Each breath became a struggle as the tidal surge of emotions held inside threatened to escape. Pressing her front hooves together on the table in front of her, Boxcars did everything within her power to hold it all together.
Just as it was starting to become entirely overwhelming, Domino belched and dribbled oatmeal down his chin. Boxcars stared at her sibling in stunned shock, watching as his ears raised and lowered in concern, and she heard Bertie say, “Domino, do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“More please?” the colt replied and he tapped his front hooves against the table’s edge.
“Why, you cheeky little blighter…” Using the spoon, Bertie scraped oatmeal from Domino’s chin while shaking her head from side to side. “At least you said please. Here in Equestria, we say, ‘excuse me’ after we let rip like that. At least, we civilised ones do. Cactus over there still hasn’t figured it out just yet, but in his defense he grew up on the prairie.”
“I take long walks through the sewer, so a little burp now and then is the least of my sins,” Cactus remarked from behind his paper.
So overwhelmed by everything was Boxcars that she didn’t have it in her to be sad. She sat in her chair with damp cheeks, almost amused by her brother’s antics, curious about life on the prairie, and reminiscing because of Bertie’s strong Grittish accent. Her father’s accent was strong, and her mother, having grown up around the Grittish, had a pronounced—but also clipped—accent.
“You’re cute as a button,” Bertie said to Domino. She began spooning more oatmeal into the colt and Boxcars watched in silence as somepony showed her little brother some much needed kindness. “Are you feeling a little better now that you’ve eaten a little?”
The colt nodded, but couldn’t say anything because Bertie stuck a spoonful of oatmeal and fruit into his mouth. Now with his cheeks bulging, the little yearling sat there chewing and smacking his lips all while looking at Bertie with outright adoration. Boxcars felt a strange pang, a lurch in her stomach when she realised that her brother’s heart would be broken when the inevitable separation from these two kind strangers would happen—and it most certainly would happen. It would be just the two of them once more and she would be stuck mending his broken—if not outright crushed—heart. It was rare for her brother to open up to anypony and to see how he was with Bertie…
More tears fell and Boxcars heard a faint plop when one hit the table.
“When we get done here you’re going to need a bath—”
“No!” This single word of protest was accompanied by a considerable dribble of oatmeal that ran down Domino’s chin and onto his barrel, further facilitating the need for a bath.
“Yes!”
“But yesterday—”
“Shush and don’t be cheeky. We want to keep you clean and tidy and I can’t have you turning out like Cactus. He’s a scruffian, he is. Been up for an hour or two and hasn’t showered. What a manky git.” When there was a sigh from behind the newspaper, Bertie turned to look in that direction, but not a word was spoken. Returning her attention to Domino, she began to chuckle, which made the many ringlets in her mane bounce.
Smiling a little, Boxcars wiped her eyes and wondered what the day would bring.
I don't know but the emotions here are a real mess. I keep deleting certain bits and re-writing them to make them better.
That is real life isn't it emotions can run the roller coaster within minutes. We don't like to admit it and it can be a sign of mental illness but thats real life especially during stressful moments
Sadness and happiness go hand and hand, and are incomplete without the other.
I am suddenlt reminded of Inside Out..... god i love that movie
Bittersweetness, maybe?
Don't you dare change a thing here....it's simply beautiful the way it is!
Bravo, Kudz!
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Leave God out of this!
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Hey man.
Bittersweet nostalgia with a healthy hope for the future mixed in
It's life, brother.