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// Sundown on a Winding Road 
// Story: I Destroyed a Universe 
// by TheLastBrunnenG 
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Granny Pie,

Sure feels funny bein’ called Granny, don’t it, Granny? Same here, sugar. Now things’ve come full circle, and we gotta make sure the young’uns don’t get their lives all muckity-mucked up like we did. These here pills don’t do much for my arthritis, meanin’ I ain’t got all year, hon, so I’ll get right to it.

Some things run in the family, right? Our men run off and got they selves killed, deader’n a swamp tree after a lightnin’ strike. Old Bismarck Baldwin Apple was a looker for dang certain, tough as nails and built like a granite outhouse. Dumber’n one too, but I weren’t picky in them days. There weren’t nothin’ here but woods and rocks far as the eye could see. I needed a strong, tall stallion to get the farm started, and sweet Celestia did I find a good’un! Hard worker but no time for me nor for our kids. You didn’t do so bad yourself there, filly. That Marsh Tacky stallion o’ yours mighta been a mean cuss, but he made durn sure y’all didn’t want for nothin’. We told ‘em they shoulda waited for the constable to call up a posse afore dealin’ with that manticore, but them hardhead colts didn’t listen none. Left us to fend for ourselves, but Celestia provided, and here we are.

Our kids didn’t do so bad. Not so good neither. My colt, my only colt, my little prize Jonathan Crispin – what a waste! That foal never had half the common sense Luna gave a goat. How he landed that little filly that gave me Applejack and Macintosh and Applebloom, I’ll never know. She weren’t no fool and she weren’t hard on the eyes, which left me hopin’ she’d buck some sense into Crispin. Nope, it weren’t meant to be. She was a city filly at heart, and when he took off for the hills to follow some fool harebrain scheme, she left for Manehattan without nary a look back. AB was just a foal, and my other two weren’t much older. They had to grow up too fast, just like your little ones. Your girl married some rock-farmin’ preacher-type, which I know weren’t what you wanted. But them’s the breaks, and like you used to tell me, when life gives you rocks, you make – well, smaller rocks. But you get the picture. At least your kids are still around, even if they did pack you off to some old ponies’ home.

If nothin’ else turned out right, our grandkids are sure swell. And that there's what I meant to write you about. I was ramblin’ for a while there, so my pills must be wearin’ off. I gotta focus and get this here wrapped up. My little AJ and your Pinkie – they’s good ponies, both of ‘em. Hearts o’ gold and hard workers, both as friendly as could be. Pinkie done asked me if she could court my AJ, and I got a mind to tell her to go for it. AJ’s a big mare now, but I appreciate your grandfilly’s askin’ me proper-like. She’s got your eyes, hon – blue as the sky and deep as lakes. You and me – well, you remember that little glen in the forest off the lane between the East Orchard and the South Rock Field? I ain’t forgot it and I never will. Don’t rightly know if I ever told you, but you were the first pony I ever called ‘sugarcube’. It didn’t work out ‘tween us, I know – back in them days, we needed foals to work the farms, and that takes stallions. Like I said, we gotta make sure our grands don’t miss out like we did. They got a chance to make up for a lotta lost years and a whole lotta missed chances between our families. Let’s give ‘em what they’s earned and give ‘em our blessin’.

Still thinkin’ o’ you, sugarcube.

Yours always,

‘Granny’ Smith Apple