//------------------------------// // Today's Special // Story: Written Off // by Sharp Spark //------------------------------// Perfect Proofs had headed straight to Joe's Donuts after his long afternoon meeting with the Canterlot Times editorial board, eager for his usual pick-me-up. He was as animated as always upon arrival, dinging the service bell more out of habit than necessity. "Ya fallin' behind, Joe?" Proofs asked loudly as he grinned. He tipped his trilby towards the board, where 'TBD' was written in chalk. "It's already evening and ya still haven't figured out what you're selling?" "Don'tcha know what day it is?" Old Mr. Rosehip said, from his seat down at the end of the counter. "Leave the poor guy alone." Proofs blinked, but Joe had his back to the both of them as he organized a shelf of piping hot donuts. When Joe turned around, he was smiling like always, not seeming to have heard either of them. He nodded at Perfect Proofs. "What can I getcha, P? Same as always?" "Yeah." Proofs hesitated for a moment, pondering Rosehip's words. "S'all good, Joe?" "S'all good," Joe said, handing him a fresh bear claw covered in sugary glaze. He bustled off back to the kitchen again. Proofs left his bits on the counter and trotted down to take a seat next to Mr. Rosehip. He took a bite of his bear claw, letting out a perfect sigh of contentment. He was just about to press the geezer for info when Mr. Rosehip brought it up himself. "It's Lost Spirits Night, y'know." Proofs rolled his eyes. "That's a loada hooey." "Youngsters these days!" Mr. Rosehip raised his cane, waving it in a general castigation of anyone under the age of fifty. "No respect for tradition or mystery." "Yeah, yeah. So is it a ghost thing?" "Is what?" "The sign. TBD." Mr. Rosehip harrumphed. It was Mint Jewelup, another regular sitting in a booth, who spoke up with an answer. "It's a girl." Proofs's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" "Sooo romantic," Mint breathed out. "A long lost love who died on this day, right before Joe could fix her favorite dish." Proofs rolled his eyes. "If ya say so." "She's not dead," Lucky Bucket said, from over where he was mopping up the floors. "His old flame lives in Whinniepeg. But he don't talk about her none. The way I figure it, they broke up on this day, and so every year he leaves the board blank, just in case she comes walkin' in that door." Mr. Rosehip grumbled into his coffee, but they all paused a moment in unison, eyes drifting towards the door in idle anticipation. It swung open and a pudgy purple dragon waddled in. Everyone let out a sigh of disappointment, and he frowned. "What? What'd I do?" Lucky helped him climb up onto one of the seats at the counter. When his eyes reached the Daily Special board, he let out a soft, "Oh." "Ya know anything about it, kid?" Proofs asked. Spike shrugged. "Ask Joe yourself." "Ask me what?" Joe said, walking out of the kitchen. Everyone in the diner suddenly seemed very preoccupied with minding their own business. Joe let out a snort. "What can I getcha, Spike?" Spike puled a long list out of his pocket, with enough donut orders for at least half a dozen hungry ponies. "Got a to-go order." Joe let out a low whistle. "Looks like you're keepin' me busy tonight!" "You know it!" Donut Joe's always closed at 3 A.M. on the dot. Sometimes, this meant kicking out the occasional stragglers still a little sugar-drunk, but the diner's patrons were friendly, and almost always everyone had a friend to help them on the way home. Tonight, everyone was gone a few minutes early, even. Which meant no one saw the neon 'Open' lights still on at 3:05. And then 3:11. And then 3:17. That was when she arrived. The bell above the door dinged as she stepped inside, struggling under the weight of the guitar case on her back. Joe grinned, but knew better than to offer to help. Instead, he went and turned the 'Open' sign off. She was sitting at the counter when he was done. "What can I getcha?" he asked. She smiled. "How about a strawberry-maple?" Joe put on a shocked expression. "What do ya know! That's today's special!" She giggled, as Joe trotted over to erase the Specials board and write in 'Strawberry-Maple.' "Sorry I'm late, but the concert ran long. You know how it goes." "Yep," Joe said. "Still liking life on the road?" "You know it, but this is still my favorite stop every year." Joe nodded. He brought over a strawberry-maple donut and a cup of coffee, two sugars no cream. She took a small bite and her face lit up. "Great as always, Dad." Joe leaned on the counter. He always had a smile for his customers, but this one, this one was a little special.