//------------------------------// // Day 3879 // Story: Stations // by Mint Essence //------------------------------// Waking up Positive face hoofed before slowly running one of said hooves through his mane in frustration. Looking towards his alarm clock he had seen that he had gotten up at his usual time, 6:00am. Normally this would have been no problem, but the past few days he had needed to get up half an hour early to make it to work eleven minutes early, given the train times. He could still easily make it on time, possibly even a few minutes early, but eleven minutes was out of the question. Getting out of bed he lazily put on his suit and tie before having his breakfast and just generally taking his time with the rest of his usual morning routine. He had missed the earlier train, so he might as well take his time in getting the next one. Knowing the times like the back of his hoof through literally thousands of repetitions of the same journey he couldn’t be late unless he specifically wanted to be. Leaving his house Positive took a brisk trot down to the train station, briefly stopping to pick up some light snacks and a soda for the train from a small shop directly adjacent the station that wound around into two ascending diagonal streets, one of which he had came down. Crossing the road he repeated the same process that he had went through the previous day and virtually everyday before it. Rushing down to the platform he saw that he had made it without a minute to spare, the draw bridge being yanked back up as soon as hooves touched down on the other side. Boarding the train he took the same seat as he had any other day, the only difference today being that he had brought some things to snack on for his journey. He had a light singer to himself at this. ‘What a wild start to the day, soda and sweets.’ He jokingly thought to himself. Finishing his snacks soon after he waited another fifteen minutes or so in his seat until the same older mare from before came aboard, taking the same seat she done last week, and like always cheerfully pulling her tartan trolley behind her, the pure stench of decapitated fish heads and intestines radiating off her like a plague. Watching this mare she began to once again peek his curiosity. Despite her smell he had no trouble looking directly at her, having gotten used to even its intense foulness from sheer repeated exposure. It had been almost an entire week since he had last seen her, and for whatever reason on this day, like the last, he could help but sit completely perplexed trying to wrap his mind around who exactly this mare was, where she went after every train journey, and why. He continued like this for near enough twenty minutes until they finally approached her usual station. In his intense pondering and having been already thrown off a bit at the start of the day he suddenly got a mad idea, or rather an impulse to follow the mare and finally find out the answer to his questions. Following this mad impulse in a single instance the stallion sprung up from his seat and briskly trotted towards the carriage doors, being very noticeably watched by the three other stallions he had been sitting alongside as he unexpectedly left the train behind. Placing one hoof onto the smooth bleached concrete of the station’s platform Positive felt a sudden rush anxiety which itself was overpowered by an even stronger sense of pure whimsy. It was ridiculous, but having passed the station so many thousands of times to only now step out upon it at such an inappropriate and random time, it felt like something from strange story, it was a mix surreal and totally mundane. The station itself was fairly typical. Another wooden building with a intricately designed cobble facade, bundles of colourful little flower pots surrounding and in some places hanging from the very structure.. Instead of having a draw bridge it had a much more common high bridge, a series of steep steps that lead to a small trotway, stretching right over the head of any train to the other side. Looking around at his surroundings he saw that indeed the older mare did disembark from the train as she had done every other day. Soon after the train’s door shut and the chugging of the wheels could be heard behind him as the engine started back up and the train sped off, sending another distinct thrill of excitement right up the stallion’s spine. Watching the mare he was surprised to see that she didn’t go up to the station’s ticket office, as might be expected, but instead completely skipping it trotted down to the end of the station before, with her trolley in tow, actually hopped down onto the tracks. Positive began to panic a little, knowing that he obviously couldn’t follow her onto the tracks without being too obvious. So simply watching her he was a bit relieved to see that she disappeared behind a small bush, reappearing back at the other side before briskly trotting over to the main path Hesitantly Positive looked towards the tracks, placing one hoof in front of himself before peering back at the station again. ‘No.’ He thought, he better not. So turning back towards the station he quickly ran over to it, hoofing over his ticket as fast as he possibly could before snatching it back as he ran out off from the station to try and catch back up with her. Finding that he was little more than a quick trot away from her, her smell assaulting his nose as soon as he sprang through the station’s doors, the stallion slowed down to a brisk trot, intentionally overtaking her as he had done getting off the train. Both ponies trotted down a long slim stone path, cobbled in some places, somewhat more flat in others with little stones and bits broken away from its surface strewn across the entirety of the non-cobbled parts of its surface. The whole thing was on a very slight decline. Looking off in either direction he was greeted by two small picturesque meadows to either side, busily active with flowers, trees, and insects of all kinds. The only structures he saw along the path were the occasional small pound built around with very roughly shaped stones and rocks dig down into the earth, as if they had been gathered and out there by random passerbys to add to the beauty of each little fish pond. Indeed he saw quite a few the further went along path that had their rocks painted and drawn over by chalk, crafting all sorts of wonderful shapes, creatures, and other weird designs. Judging by the skill of these small drawings most of them seemed to have been made by foals, but some were surprisingly well done. A drawing of a simple crab particularly catching his eye for its skill and complexity. The path went on for about ten minutes, it’s decline gradually steepening until they reach a very small but well built village of maybe fifty or sixty or so buildings all stone made. Approaching the village the most distinctive feature was a charmingly rustic clocktower that rose far above any of the other buildings in the village, being almost twice as tall as any other structure. Unlike the rest of the building around it the whole thing was cobbled and stood like a long tower one might expect to see on a castle, being topped by a small balcony built into the shape of a hexagon that stretch up with six chalk white marble columns topped by a small green marble dome. The tower itself didn’t touch the ground, instead coming out in four large arches at each corner of the structure which sturdily attached themselves to the surrounding building, allowing for a wide space under the tower that crisscrossed between the towns two main streets, south to north being the villages various businesses, shops, and tea houses, with west to east being the residential street of the small village, lined with rows of idilic little cottages, each conforming to the same classic homely style while retaining their own unique qualities and eccentricities. Aside from the two main streets various smaller buildings and structures surrounded and made up the remainder of the village. And from the looks of the expansive hills and small streams that ran around the village the stallion imagined that the surrounding countryside might be littered with countless small cottages and watermills. Entering the village he slowed his stride to a slow canter, allowing the mare behind him to soon overtake him and lead the way through the village’s main business street. She continued right down to the centre of the street, just before the tower, and entered into a small cheesemonger’s shop to the right of the street, just before one of the tower’s supporting arches. Leaving her trolley outside of the shop Positive slowly trotted up to it, sharply turning his nose away from the sheer fierceness of the smell. Then approaching the door as the older mare had he gingerly pushed it open, trotting inside. The first thing he noticed was the pungent smell of dozens upon dozens of rich cheeses assaulting nose. The fishy smell however merely lingered, leading him to believe that this mare didn’t in fact smell of rotten fish guts, it was her now suspiciously full trolley. Waiting directly behind the mare he waited for her to make her purchase, observing that she bought four very small blocks of cheese, each one very different from the last. Not wanting to look too suspicious he went over to the counter and bought his own small block of Le Chevrot, hoofing over the appropriate amount of bits. Leaving the shop he continued to follow the mare, watching as she trotted under the high tower to a small bakery directly under the arch at the other side, which he noticed had a very large and auspicious sign overhanging the humble little shop proclaiming to be the “The Oldest and Most Honest Business in Town”. He simply lingered around at the other side of the street, trotting down a bit to put some distance between him and herself until she saw her re-emerge from the shop, a large loaf of hot bread in hoof which she put into a large cotton pouch she had presumably gotten from the shop alongside her cheese. Continuing to follow her he watched as she popped into a small florist shop, bringing out another far smaller pouch of flowers and assorted herbs. He then watched as she slowly made her way down the rest of the wide street, continuing down another long slender path much like the one they had came down from the train station. This path like the last declined every so slightly throughout the entire duration of their walk. Other than a few cottages and curious castle-like structures, and a slight incline that rose ever sharper far off to either side of the path they came across nothing more peculiar than they had up until this point. They continued like this for at least a good half hour before the path finally came to its end. By the time they reached the end of the path those sharp inclines had become steep hills topped by even steep cliffs that hung over the surrounding terrain and boxed them in from either side at the end of the path. Said cliffs came round in a large circle, as tall and mighty on the other side as they were at theirs, and like the spot where they stood there was another small opening beyond the cliffs leading into a river that extended far past their reach. It was a cove, a massive spectacular cove with a pond of shining sapphire water, and along its bank lay wide stretches of fresh sand, shining equally as bright from the light of the warm early summer sun. Just then the old mare turned to him, smiling. “Thought you were being smart back there, didn’t you? Running off ahead of me like that.” Woken from his amazed stupor at the sheer beauty and whimsy of the landscape that surrounded him Positive, who had almost forgotten completely about the presence of his older companion, remember how he had gotten here in the first place. “Sorry?” He simply asked, finding no other words. “Please, don’t speak, not now. We both know how you got here. Aren’t you more interested in how I got here, or rather why.” The older mare said, still smiling as she had done throughout their whole journey. Simply turning her back she proceeded to nonchalantly trot her way down the beach, her trolley following close behind as her constant companion. She didn’t make another sound until they arrived at their final destination. It hadn’t taken him too long to notice small clusters of red scattered about the sand nearer the water, and soon after that he saw that they were in fact moving, they were alive. Upon further inspection he began to see little snapping claws accompanied by nearly a dozen tiny scurrying little legs. They were crabs, hundreds and hundreds of crabs, throughout the whole length of the cove. He imagined that there might in fact be thousands further down to each side beyond his vision. “Crabs?” Positive simply asked. “Crabs.” The older mare replied. Opening her tartan trolley she reached deep inside, making a sickening squelching sound as she did so, only to reveal a large pile of fish guts and decapitated fish heads bloodying both her hooves and forelegs. With a mirthful smile on her face she threw the carnage out onto the beach, causing literally hundreds of hungry little crabs to scurry over to the small pieces of hacked up fish. “Come on, you know there’s no need to hurry, there’s more than enough for everyone!” The mare exclaimed, laughing joyfully as she once again reached deep into her trolley, covering her forelegs in blood and guts, to throw out another larger pile of hacked up fishes. Seeing this, and now smelling the same pungent odour from before, only baking on the hot sand of the beach, Positive immediately jerked back, covering his mouth with his hoof as he repeatedly gagged, almost throwing up. The older mare simply looked back towards him and laughed, although it was a playful light hearted laugh, completely unbefitting the pure horror she was releasing onto the once beautiful beach. “Oh I’m sorry, I just had to get my little joke in.” She said, chuckling to herself. “Please, come over.” She continued, gesturing for Positive to approach her with a friendly hoof. “What are you doing?” Positive simply asked. “What I’ve been doing for the past near half a decade, feeding my hungry little crabs.” She tried to explain. “Like this?” He tried to question, pointing a single hoof towards the blood strewn beach while his other repressed another short gagging bout. “Oh I’m afraid so. It’s that other exit up there see. Used to be home to a beautiful big beaver dam. Then the beavers left, the dam collapsed, and most of the fish fled down stream with them, leaving whatever was still stuck on the cove without any natural food source.” “Place used to have two names yah know. Beaver Tail Retreat and Crab Eye Cove. Lost one of them, I’ll be dammed in it loses the other.” She said, merrily tossing another pile of guts onto the beach. “And you have to be so jovial about it?” The stallion asked. “Didn’t used to be, but it’s been over four years. It simply isn’t as somber as it once was, so why not enjoy myself. Besides, none of these fish were killed, least not by me, I collect ‘em from another that doesn’t need them and then put them to good use for one that does.” The mare simply explained, trying her best to her motivations across. The mare and stallion continued like this, with Positive every so slowly being coaxed over by the older to have a look at some of her crabs, only after her trolley was emptied and she had assured him that there would be no more surprises. The two calmly watched the crabs for another twenty minutes or so, hardly sharing another word between themselves, before retreating back towards the cliff wall. The older mare leaving her trolley behind her, simply taking her small sack full of cheese, bread, flowers, herbs on her back. The mare then lead him on a little further until they reach a few large rocks at the side of the cliff. Once again coaxing him forward the older mare climbed up onto the rocks before they reached a more jagged part of the cliff, with rough hoof sized chunks of rock jutting out and being carved into the cliff face. Expertly climbing up the older mare allowed herself one more laugh at the stallions expense, encouraging him onwards. Pushed on by a sudden bout of confidence Positive made it to the top of the cliff face, being yanked up by the mare’s surprisingly strong hoof as he reached the top. The two then found a quiet spot to sit on the grass directly overlooking the cove, lit up by thousands of little red scurrying backs. Retrieving her bread for her sack the mare hoofed over a large chunk to the stallion sitting next to her. “I got an extra big piece for the both of us.” She simply said with a friendly smile, bringing out a little butter knife to cut their cheese. Preparing a small hooful of beautifully crafted sandwiches, each unique with their very own mixture of fancy cheeses, flowers, and herbs, the older mare and the middle aged stallion simple sat in the soft green grass, enjoying their light lunch as they both peered out over the cove, smiling.