Singular Entities

by Cynical


Bits

It was a house in the country. Far from the cities and the lights and the noise.

The house belonged to two ponies, they’d bought it when they were young and lived there since. Within the house the timeline was laid out in odds and ends, bits and bobs.

Upon the mantle in the main room, just above the fireplace, there rested a picture of the two of them, many years ago and some before that, the day of their wedding.

As if that wasn’t enough happy memories for them, the rest of the shelf was crammed with pictures, all framed and kept smudge-free, all enchanted to repel dust.

From left to right, there was the earliest, a picture of six mares, all smiling and laughing and having fun together, then four of the ponies disappeared from the rest. A picture, taken on the seaside by a passer-by, another on the highest peak of Canterlot Spires, one more of one, then the other.

Their travels were scattered within the house, an antique pot from Eastern Equestria, a thank you present from the Zebras, but none of those could match the memorabilia, and they were dwarfed by the books, yet both were nothing against the albums and even they could never match the memories.

The kitchen, the scorch mark where one of them had set the pan on fire, the bigger mark where the other had tried to put it out.
The study, a writing desk of neat piles and ordered pots, with a quill of sky blue.
The library where they had both unwound and the bedroom where they’d both been loved.

Now finally the garden, their lasting possession,

‘Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash’
‘Together Forever’