It all started years ago, when Derpy was living in Fillydelphia, in a dilapidated fourth-story trotup in the industrial part of town. The buildings were grimy and the sky generally overcast with smog from the factories. That was one reason pegasi in the city didn't live on clouds.
Another reason was it was hard to put locks on a cloud.
Derpy worked out of her home at a variety of jobs, whatever she could scrape up to put food on the table for herself and her daughter: delivering newspapers, occasional grocery runs when the local supermarket was short-hoofed, and one of her favorite odd-jobs, envelope stuffing.
She had a system all worked out. She could manage anything, as long as she had a system. The stacks of items to go into the envelopes were lined up left to right on her worktable. The envelopes came next, then a damp sponge, then a pile of address stickers, then a roll of stamps, and another damp sponge. There was a bin on the floor beside the table. She took one item from each pile, counting to make sure she got them all, stuffed them in the envelope, sealed it, added a sticker, added a stamp, and plopped the envelope in the bin.
It made such a nice sound going thump in the bin. Done.
And then she did the next one. And the next. And the next. Always exactly the same steps, in the same order. Never change, never fail.
She knew she was doing it right. She'd often seen ponies she delivered groceries to dropping mailings just like these in a bin. It sounded exactly the same hitting the bottom.
Another job she sometimes got was recording telephone messages. It was puzzling why they wanted her to read them, but maybe they liked her voice. It was usually something along the lines of "Hi! This is Amy, and you're already qualified for an amazing insurance plan, at a price you can afford..."
Derpy had no idea who Amy was. She assumed she must be someone nice, making all these great offers for ponies she didn't know anything about.
But Derpy loved envelope stuffing the best. It kept her busy all day, and it meant she could spend time at home with Dinky, her daughter, rather than having to chase around finding someone to watch her.
Dinky was a small pale-purple unicorn with blond hair. She would play quietly with her toys and books on her bed in the corner, knowing how important it was for her mother to stay focused when she was working. Dinky's favorite toy was a small white pony with flowing purple locks. Dinky called her Bean. She carried her everywhere, usually in her mouth or a carryall pocket, since she wasn't skilled enough with levitation yet.
The toy was battered, its hair matted and unkempt, and its cutie-mark had fallen off long ago. But Dinky loved Bean for that. She was a blank-flank, just like Dinky was. And like Mommy, too.
The last envelope went thump in the bin. And Derpy turned to Dinky and held out her forehooves. Dinky jumped off the bed and ran to her for a hug. They always hugged when Mommy was done, every time. Never change, never fail.
"'Kay, Dinks! Dinnertime!"
Dinky scampered back and forth to the cupboard, bringing back dishes and glasses and tableware, while Derpy re-spread the cloth over her worktable. Derpy lifted Dinky onto the table, and then they raced each other setting up, competing like chessmasters positioning the knives and forks. Derpy went to the cupboard and brought out bread and cheese and a bag of assorted greens that had been mis-ordered by a customer the other day, and would have been tossed otherwise.
"Can we go to the playground tomorrow, Mommy?"
Derpy sighed. "Can't, Dinks! Big grocery order run tomorrow. But then it'll be the weekend. We'll have a nice bus-ride, and everything. 'Kay?"
"'Kay," Dinky replied, looking sad. "Will Mr. Shank be watching me again?"
"Nope, he's busy tomorrow. Mrs. Hack said she would."
"I don't like her much. She smells like smoking."
"Yah. She looks a grump too!" Derpy agreed. "But she's nice inside. Gotta talk to her a while to find it, tho."
After dinner, they cleared and cleaned up. Then Derpy sat with Dinky on the bed and they read together. Derpy loved reading with her daughter. It was the one time when her eyes were perfect for the job. She had her Book Eye, and she had her Dinky Eye. She could read the story and look at her daughter at the same time, and see how much she enjoyed it.
Then she tucked Dinky up in bed with Bean, kissed her, and switched off the lights, plunging the room into the gloom of the descending twilight. After a few moments she trotted over to the apartment's single window, slid it open, and climbed out onto the fire escape, shutting the window after her so the noise from the street wouldn't bother Dinky.
Extending her wings she carefully beat them vertically, the way she'd taught herself to do -- whump, whump, whump -- lifting herself straight up the side of the building to the roof.
Then she sat on the roof edge, looking up at the sky. And wishing.
She wished something would change. Just once. That things could be different just once, without it all crashing down on her like it always did whenever she reached a little too far, too fast.
She wished she knew what her cutie-mark might have been, if she'd ever found it. And what it was that she was really good at.
She wished she had more to give Dinky than a life in the city. Derpy had always lived in the city herself, and had thought she loved it. But just look at what that had gotten her.
While she watched, the sun finished setting. The moon rose steadily into view with its Mare shadow and the four bright Shepherd Stars. Derpy liked the Mare in the Moon. The shadow always looked so happy, its head held high. It reminded her of how she used to be.
As usual, she directed her wishes to the Mare, redoubling them. Just once, she thought. And my cutie-mark. And Dinky, give her what she needs.
She wished and wished to the Mare in the Moon.
Nothing happened. Nothing changed.
Derpy sighed. She got up and trotted across the roof, to take the stairs back down so she wouldn't disturb Dinky. But she didn't have to worry much. Dinky always slept soundly at night, knowing if she heard a noise at the window, it was probably just Mommy coming home.
Maybe tomorrow, Derpy told herself.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Sorry," said Mrs. Cauliflower, the grocer. "My cousin's son just got into town and was looking for work, so I gave him the grocery run. Come back on Moonday." She shut the door.
Derpy sat down hard, on the pavement by the store entrance. She'd been counting on this big run to help with the rent. Now she'd have to quickly scrounge up some kind of work today and maybe over the weekend to help fill the gap. And much worse, she'd have to tell Dinky the playground visit would have to wait.
Win some lose some, she thought. She got up and headed off toward the job bureau to check the listings.
Well, at least she would have done. If her hooves had cooperated. She just sat there, rooted to the spot, head sunk on her breast. For once it was all too much. The constant hustle to find work, the uncertainty, the need to provide for herself and Dinky, to keep her daughter safe and happy.
Just once, she thought to herself.
( ( ( B O O M ) ) )
Her gaze shot skyward, seeing a massive wave of dark cloud spreading across the sky. At first she was terrified. Was this it? Some kind of magic attack that would wipe out Dinky and herself, plus everything and everyone she'd ever cared for?
But as she watched, a rainbow steadily arced across the sky from the hidden source of the explosion. She began to smile, feeling charged with a strange sense of purpose. Eyes dazzled, she stood up, watching the last of the wave pass steadily overhead, the completed rainbow slowly fading.
It was as if the sky had opened up, just for her alone.
The door behind her banged open. "What the Eff'in Hay!" Mrs. Cauliflower glared around, then up at the sky. "Dumb kids setting off powder bombs again!"
"Quick, Mrs. Cauliflower!" Derpy asked, pointing with a hoof. "What's over that way?"
"Lower West Side, what else?"
"I mean... out... outside the city."
Mrs. Cauliflower shrugged. "Forest and hills mostly, and then Cloudsdale and Canterlot." She shut the door again, apparently putting the whole thing out of her mind.
But Derpy didn't. She couldn't. She had to know what it was.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Why are you home so early, Mama?" Dinky asked as they trotted back toward the apartment, sounding anxious but also happy for the early reprieve from Ms. Hack. "Did you finish the grocery run?"
"Nope! Been planning. And doing stuff." She came to a halt, and leaned her head down to nuzzle Dinky.
"How you feel 'bout a taking a trip?"