//------------------------------//
// On Dealing With Loss 
// Story: Serious Business 
// by 2Merr 
//------------------------------//

My master is kind. He does not refer to me as his diary, nor as his journal. No, to him I am simply his friend. I am the paper shoulder for him to cry on when the world does everything it can to tear him down. And it does so constantly. 

My master is now in his darkest hour. His old friend Kitchen Stool has been killed, murdered by the twin cheeks of the Sun Tyrant. He screamed for mercy beneath her suffocating presence, but she pretended not to hear. My master heard. He heard Kitchen Stool scream, heard his legs shatter to pieces, heard him slowly fall silent. And the Tyrant laughed. 

Master's tears stain my pages as he recounts more of this tragedy. He chose to mourn openly for the loss of his dear friend, yet he received no empathy from the ponies. They said he was being childish, that he could simply make another one. The Tyrant herself claimed Kitchen Stool was not alive to begin with. Those heartless monsters will never understand.