//------------------------------// // First Verse, First Phrase // Story: In Rainfall, Irrevocable Secrets // by Phil Srobeighn //------------------------------// Provided one has enough finches, and wants to wake up at dawn, one does not need an alarm clock. Generally, this was Fluttershy’s first thought each morning. The sun rose slowly – a little more golden than the rest of the day, as it was surrounded by a golden aura of unicorn horn magic from the goddess of the sun. This gold light bathed Fluttershy’s room as she rose to the sound of finches praising Celestia for another day, her own soft yellow coat and wings washed out against the background of her bedroom. She yawned, stretched her front legs, then her wings, then her back legs, and trotted to her window. As Fluttershy took account of herself for the morning, she knew that today was the day. Generally this was Fluttershy’s second thought each day. The number of days required to make a statement about what Fluttershy’s second thought “generally” was is enough to show how many days were not the day, yet same as it ever was, Fluttershy was committed that it would be the day. Because today was the day, Fluttershy wasted no time grooming herself for the morning. While most grown pegasai had all the clouds they could want necessary for proper grooming available in their unique cloud homes, Fluttershy was obliged to scoop some appropriate clouds from the sky in order to maintain herself; otherwise, there would be no reason to have a home so near to a particularly-scary source of wild clouds. Because today was the day, Fluttershy fed her animals as quickly as possible. Carnivores first, so the terrible feeling of dealing with dead animals was cleared by the joy brought to the other residents of Fluttershy’s cottage by breakfast. The ferrets smiled, appreciatively. Fluttershy sighed and figured the ordeal was worth the appreciation. Herbivores came next, ending with her close friend and nurse to her veterinary practices, Angel the bunny. Fluttershy would then turn to rush other chores, but Angel’s position in the feeding order was last for a reason: the small white rabbit knew his job as a nurse was to take care of his doctor. Angel took the carrot, and after a first bite, jabbed Fluttershy with the remainder of his carrot and pointed her to the kitchen. Because today was the day, Fluttershy ate only as much breakfast as she needed. A small bowl of oats would see her through to her destination. She quickly maneuvered the dishes into the sink for Angel, who gave her a clipboard before setting to pumping the water into the sink for his morning tasks. Because today was the day, Fluttershy could only check briefly on any veterinary patients staying overnight. Most were under strict orders to rest, so few ever stirred as she made sure they were breathing at a normal pace. She rubbed and prodded sore spots, with a softness that could only come from combining years of study and practice with a body designed to walk on clouds. With her patients checked, she headed towards the door. Because today was the day, she did not have time to find out why Angel was trying to bar her from leaving in a hurry. Besides, she knew in her heart why he would. It was because yesterday was the day. And yesterday, yesterday was the day, and yesterday was the day then, and so forth through more yesterdays than the little bunny cared to remember. Angel still faithfully tried; it was his job as a nurse was to take care of his doctor, or to at least try. Angel watched as Fluttershy walked past, and hoped that today was, finally, the day. Because today was the day, Fluttershy galloped into town. Her eyes were upward, scanning the small, white clouds that made their way into Ponyville overnight, waiting for the moment that the first one would suddenly disappear. Because today was the day, her heart leapt when it did disappear, the cause of which only delineated by a rainbow blur moving quickly to the next cloud. The lead pony of Ponyville’s weather control team was attempting to break another record for clearing the morning clouds so she could begin her morning nap. Because today was the day, Fluttershy called out to the pegasus that caused the rainbow blur. “…!” She exclaimed with a loud, cheerful voice. No, there was none. No voice. No exclamation. No cheerful greeting that would start the day. No glad conversation that would spark the spending of the day together. No long day that would turn into a soft, cool night, and as the air whipped around them they placed their wings over each other, and held each other close for warmth, and then they looked into each others eyes, and the most beautiful being Fluttershy knew of saw deep into her heart, and so the revelation was already made so it was finally so blissfully easy just to say those three words she longed to say. “…” No, she could not even mutter the words to herself. Not even squeak. Her body underwent its normal reaction to the stress of the thought of social interaction. Her legs clamped together, her wings shut. Today was not the day. So Fluttershy set out about the day that was not the day. The first order of business was to find some foliage to hide behind so that she would not be seen. It was instinct more than desire; her mind listened hopefully for the voice of her oldest friend calling out to stop her. Maybe she needed some cheering for another competition. Maybe she wanted to reminisce about flight school. Maybe she wanted to say the same three words and was having all the same problems getting them out and just the sight of her yellow coat would give her the courage to speak out. Of course not, though. Rainbow Dash was brave. So the next order was… was… In all her haste, Fluttershy realized that she hadn’t even stopped to worry what day it was. Whatever day it was, it dragged by, weighted down by the knowledge that it was not the day. Weighted down by the majority of a lifetime of waiting for the day. Whether it was another work day, or spa day with Rarity, or the day of one of Pinkie Pie’s parties, or a day that would bring back some other power-hungry godlike being bent on some form of disharmony, to Fluttershy it would be just another day that was not the day. But Fluttershy would listen to the mockingbirds at night and know that tomorrow would be the day. Only mockingbirds who have not found their mate sing at night: the sad song of a mockingbird who has yet to say whatever combination of chirps and whistles correlated to the words Fluttershy longed to say. Mockingbirds are monogamous. To them, those words are forever. Fluttershy sighed at the thought of a forever with Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy sighed at the thought of a day with Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy sighed at the thought of a night with Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy sighed at the thought of a moment with Rainbow Dash. Just a moment. Just a touch. And so, as she crept into bed, Fluttershy stared at her wall. She kept pictures of all her friends there, certainly, for she wouldn’t want any guest to suddenly determine her favorite and ruin the day that would be the day. Only one was at her eye level when she was on her bed. Only one pony’s image filled her eyes as she drifted off – or at least filled her vision, as her eyes were usually occupied by tears. It was only this image that would hear the words that would generally be the last thought of the day for Fluttershy. She would hum, quivering from her crying, the forever-song of the mockingbirds, and use what little courage she could muster to tell the picture the words on her heart. She would not tell the image she loved it, nor its subject. She would not bid it goodnight. She would be honest with it, with herself. Honesty was, after all, an Element of Harmony. In the darkness, Fluttershy would tell the image of the pony she loved, “I’d give up forever to touch you.”