//------------------------------// // Spare Bedroom // Story: A Charmed Life // by BlazzingInferno //------------------------------// Ditzy reached for her blanket only to discover she’d fallen out of bed again. Groaning, she wiped a line of drool off her cheek with the dirty sweater that’d become her pillow and tried to remember what came next: night shift or day shift. Sunlight was leaking through the curtains on the window, along with a pretty birdsong. Day shift, then. She pushed herself upright and stumbled toward the dresser, past the half-empty suitcases, the pile of dirty clothes, the stack of clean ones, and the taped-up cardboard box of childhood momentos. She slumped into the chair in front of the dresser, blinked a couple times at the mirror, and yawned. “Two more weeks,” she told herself. Two more weeks and she wouldn’t be on night shift anymore. Unless Well Done changed his mind again. She could still smell the hay fries. The sweater she’d been drooling on tasted like them, and she didn’t even wear it to work. “Need a shower. Need a million showers.” Hoofsteps echoed in the hallway beyond the door and Thunderlane, her second cousin, tapped it lightly. “Ditzy? Are you awake? I was going to make some breakfast, but—” The previous night slowly came into focus, including her blundering attempt to make grilled cheese. She leaned her forehead against the mirror and sighed. “I’m sorry about the mess, Thunderlane. I’ll clean it up. And I’ll buy you a new pan.” “It’s okay. I… kind of didn’t like that pan… or those towels.” She thought of the beige suit jacket, light blue hat, and pearl necklace hanging in the closet, the three parts of her business ensemble she’d acquired so far. It wasn’t that she was lacking for bits, not after working double shifts for months and finding nothing worthwhile to spend them on. In two days it’d be the second Wednesday again, and if she could stay awake long enough she’d go to town on the second-hoof store’s kitchen section. “I’ll replace everything, I swear.” “Don’t worry about that now. I, uh… Are you decent? Can I come in?” Ditzy lifted her forehead just far enough off the mirror to take in her unkempt mane and grease-speckled coat. That wasn’t what really mattered, of course. She reached out a hoof and pulled a large wooden box off the dresser and into her lap, out of sight. “About as decent as I ever get. Come on in.” The door opened a crack at first, as if he was steeling his nerves. A sliver of light from one of the hallway lamps and the fresh scent of mint pierced the midmorning gloom. Finally the door swung wide and Thunderlane trotted in, smiling good-naturedly, Ditzy thought, considering the wreck she’d made of his spare bedroom and now his kitchen. “So… what’d you have planned for today?” She didn’t turn toward him, for his comfort more than hers. Instead she shrugged. “Gotta go to work soon. Gotta take a million showers first. Eat something that’s not deep-fried.” “Isn’t Sunday your day off?” “Huh?” she forgot herself for a moment and looked right at him, thankfully with a squint. “Isn’t today… It’s Sunday?” Thunderlane nodded, his smile as immaculate as the rest of his house, save for the tiny room he’d given to her. And now the kitchen, which he hadn’t. “I get that your sleep schedule is wonky, considering the hours they’ve got you on. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about: the weather team is doing tryouts this afternoon, and I thought maybe if we practice bucking clouds this morning to get your confidence up—” Ditzy turned back to the mirror. “Nope, no weather for me. I’ll just make hay fries. Nice, safe hay fries. And take a million showers after.” Thunderlane stepped closer, and then she felt his foreleg on her shoulder. “Okay, if that’s what you want. I just thought I’d offer. Do you want some breakfast? How about some eggs?” “Eggs are great, thanks. I swear I’ll clean up the kitchen, and this room. Don’t let me borrow your vacuum though… looks expensive. No wonder your house is super clean.” He laughed. “I’ll vacuum for you if you get your stuff off the ground. Besides, my folks are threatening to send my little brother Rumble to live with me, so I might as well get used to having somepony else in the house.” She had to grin at that idea. “And you think this room is messy now, just you wait. You should’ve seen my bedroom when I was a filly.” Thunderlane’s laughter petered out; he probably had the same mental image she did. “I’m gonna get started on those eggs.” “ ’kay. I’ll be out just as soon as I… I’ll be out soon.” Her hooves clutched the box in her lap, not daring to move it until the door clicked shut. Finally she set it on the dresser and lifted the lid. Her glass eye stared back at her: vibrant, lifelike, and covered in a thin film of grease just like the rest of her. She rubbed its smooth surface with a cleaning cloth, pausing occasionally to spritz it with a little spray bottle. She rubbed, she spritzed, and she thought. She thought about her old home back in Cloudsdale. She thought about earning her cutie mark on the school field trip to the weather factory when they chose her to turn on the fog machine. She thought about her first day on the job there, the way her crisp new uniform felt and how everypony beamed with pride and respect when she wore it. She thought about the accident, the sirens, and the screaming. She thought about the hospital’s funny smell, and being so relieved to see her new eye, no matter the tremendous expense. But most of all she thought about how her new eye never seemed to point the right way, and how all that pride and respect evaporated like fog in the sun. Ditzy almost wrecked the whole weather factory. Dummy shouldn’t have been using that machine unsupervised. Dopey’s always been a klutz. Derpy doesn’t deserve to wear that uniform. The box’s lid slammed shut. Ditzy took a long, deep breath and, after a moment’s hesitation, forced herself to look at her own reflection. “Cloudsdale’s over. Ponyville’s a fresh start, and down here you’re gonna be your own mare!” She pounded the dresser for emphasis and immediately heard something fall off the opposite wall and crash to the ground. Wincing, she added a new picture frame to her shopping list and called out “sorry, Thunderlane!”