//------------------------------//
// Eternal Morning 
// Story: A Playback 
// by Comma Typer 
//------------------------------//


"Happy birthday, Cauliflower!" her father shouted.



The filly gallops and squeals, running to him. She bumps her head against his leg again and again, but she keeps squealing. After failing to defeat it, she settles for a hug.



Her mother gallops over to scoop her up, throwing her up and letting her fall back to her hooves. Cauliflower screams in joy.



"Hey, Root, hold the camera! I wanna be in!"






The bars of the truck are struck, and Gerwin has to look up from Cauliflower's wrist screen. "Klugetown's up!" barks the driver. "Get ready for the Equestrian delegates."

Gerwin closes the recording and puts it back in the bag. Opened one more time, it yields to him a visage of her, pure as ever. Her eyes are now closed; her muzzle is turned up in an immortal smile.

On orders to hurry up, he closes the bag. For the first time throughout the trip, he locks the latches tight.

Hot desert sands attack him from outside. Silhouettes waver like mirages; before them, the faint outlines of buildings rise. Uniforms of Klugetown authorities—and Canterlot's Royal Guard—dazzle him as they approach, wading through the sand.

Clutching the bag, he drops outside, ready to report the truth under a naked, honest morning.