//------------------------------// // Cleaning // Story: Blank Pages // by dormagio //------------------------------// Photon Storm looked at the model before her in disinterest. Despite her best efforts, she could not find the energy to devote towards the photo shoot she was currently engaged in. After five more minutes of halfhearted effort, she gave a sigh of defeat. Striking a pose, she shouted “Enough! ... I am not fveeling ze magicks today! ... Come back next wveek and wve wvill finish zis then.” After holding the pose for a couple beats more, she turned and accelerated out of the room. Once she had reached the safety of her office, she let out a sigh and removed her glasses revealing her weary magenta eyes. Her forehead met the table with a thud as she collapsed, letting her mental strain take a more physical form. Two short knocks sounded, and without looking up she shouted, “Come in!” A pink maned, icy blue mare entered and set a cup of hot tea next to Photon’s head. Quietly walking around the desk, the mare placed her hooves on Photon’s shoulders and began to gently work the tension out of them. “Oh Merriweather, you’re a miracle worker. What would I ever do without you?” The other mare simply smiled and continued working. “But still, I couldn’t focus at all today. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wasn’t feeling it today.” Merriweather stopped her work and turned Photon’s head towards the framed, autographed, Wonderbolts poster that adorned her wall. “Yes, I guess I was thinking about him. But how could I not? He literally fell into my life. It’s like something out of a storybook. All that’s left is an upcoming ball to attend and a fairy godmother.” At this, Merriweather stopped. Nodding her head, she reached into Photon’s desk and produced a pen and a sheet of paper. Placing this in front of her employer, she pointed at Soarin’s picture, then back at the paper. “You think I should write him a letter?” Merriweather shook her head and walked over to the nearby bookcase. Scanning the contents, she grabbed one of the books and placed it on the desk “Poems for the Wandering Spirit? You want me to write him a poem?” Merriweather gave a small nod. “Why?” Merriweather simply tapped the side of her muzzle with a smile and exited the room. Photon stared at the paper in front of her. A poem? I’ve never written a poem for anyone, much less a stallion. Looking up, her eyes locked onto the poster. On the other hoof, Merriweather may be right. She certainly hasn’t steered me wrong yet. After staring for a few seconds more, Photon grabbed the pen and began writing. --- Merriweather descended the stairs leading from Photon’s office to the laundry room that served as a communal meeting room.. The room held a wide variety of cleaning products and equipment, all neatly packed onto the many shelves that filled the area. Ducking under a drying rack, she approached the cork board that served as the communal message system. As she checked for news, she grabbed a paper and scribbled a note to the rest of the staff. Satisfied that nothing needed her immediate attention, she turned and exited the room. --- Wow, I never realized that there was so much going on in a tree. Soarin had spent the past hour reading a book on the function of trees that the brown pony with the yellow mane had so graciously retrieved for him. Despite his initial misgivings, he had quickly found himself enthralled by the tome. What do you know, looks like I’m into reading after all. His contemplation was disturbed as the icy blue pony entered the room carrying a large binder on her back. “Can I, uh, help you?” The blue pony responded only with an impish smile before dropping the binder on the bed and looking at him expectantly. “Do you...want me to read this?” The pony simply nodded. “Why?” A hoof tap on the side of her muzzle was his only answer as she turned around and quietly exited the room. Soarin watched her leave before turning to the binder. Like the little green book he had been given before, the binder held no clue as to who was its author. With a suspicious gaze, he carefully opened it up to the first page. A series of pictures of a cat from all different angles covered the page before him. the next page was all of trees, then flowers, then, some of ponies. As he flipped through the pages, the photos became clearer, then brighter, and by the time he was midway through the photos were clearly artistic. Ponies were perched upon rocks, resting in trees, standing in the rain, and any number of other poses. Each page showed him different emotions, different subjects, different elements. Mares cried, stallions rejoiced, foals triumphed, and storms grew. Soarin watched as the entirety of pony society was systematically photographed. Each snapshot a window into the world. Each frame, a moment forever preserved. Soarin watched in increasing awe, as the photographer transcended physical beings and began to photograph ideas themselves. Full page photographs bearing titles such as Life, Fire, Green, Magic, and Sadness filled the remainder of the binder. Only three blank pages existed in the entire collection, each one bearing a carefully printed label, just like the others: Flight, Truth, and Happiness. Soarin simply stared at the blank pages. Out of all the ideas in the world, what could be so hard to grasp about these? I don’t know about Truth, but I fly every day and I’m sure I have felt happiness. What about these three things could confound an artist as obviously talented as this? The pages, however, remained blank and Soarin let out a sigh before closing the collection and placing it next to the forgotten book on trees. Might as well get some sleep. --- Soarin was awakened by the clatter of a serving tray as the ice blue mare set down his dinner. Before he could even open his mouth, she was at the door, and turning off the lights. Horseapples! Why does she always have to leave so fast? A quick sniff dispelled his frustration as a warm slice of cherry pie and glass of milk greeted him from the tray. Carefully, he turned towards the food and began to dig in. Each warm, gooey bite filled his mouth with the taste of autumn and before he could blink, he had taken the final bite and was licking the plate.The warm distraction gone, he noticed an envelope below the plate. Careful to wipe his hooves on the provided napkin, he extracted the envelope from its ceramic prison and inspected it. His name was the only adornment to the white mystery. Finding it unsealed, he took the single sheet out and began to read: Earthbound eyes gaze towards the sky, The unattainable beast. The sky so blue, so strong, so new. The sky above my heart. My heart that yearns to fly, to soar, To live there with your clouds. Clouds in which I’ll play and live, And love, and feel your heart. These earthbound eyes gaze towards your sky, That’s not so far away. The sky which fell to meet me here, The sky which touched my heart. My heart that soars among the clouds, The clouds which came to me. The clouds that grace my home today, And sleep within my sheets. Some years ago, these clouds came by, And caught around my heart. They left me then, they left me here, To travel, far and wide. Those wings of sky, which passed me by, It’s time they took me too. -Photon Storm