//------------------------------// // Glass Creations // Story: For Old Times' Sake // by fic Write Off //------------------------------// Watching as the ponies passed by with nary a second glance, he sighed. His stall was filled with glass animals of all kinds, but nopony was biting. They kept walking by, ignoring him like he was some kind of street beggar. Sure, he wasn’t the fanciest-looking pony, but he figured he could at least sell something. He tried to wave over a few of them, but they walked faster and pretended not to hear him. “Come one, come all! Come see the greatest creations made of glass that you’ve ever seen! Monkeys, bunnies, tigers, and bears! Every animal you can think of, I can make! Elephants or whales or pigs, even kangaroos and spiders and dogs, oh my!” He smiled as wide as he could, gesturing towards his wares. But still, they walked on. He looked down at his empty bucket and saw naught but cobwebs. Even after sitting all day in the freezing cold, there had been nopony. He couldn’t understand why. He tried to corner some of the slower ponies, but all he got were excuses. “Sorry, I’m not interested.” “Not my cup of tea.” “I don’t have any bits on me. Sorry.” “I don’t like the way it looks.” At first, he was hopeful. “I’m sure the next pony will buy something. It’ll be okay. Everything’s okay,” he told himself. But as time passed, the expression on his face sagged. “Why is everypony ignoring me? Those stuck-up prats!” He got a few looks as he shouted at nopony. “Them and their shiny coats. Probably think their poop doesn’t stink, either! One of the ponies wandered by to take a closer look at what he had to sell, but at that point, he just didn’t care anymore. “What are you looking at?” he shouted. The colt yelped and ran away. “What’s wrong with them? Can’t they see true beauty?” He tried to keep it bottled up, but it burned inside him like a raging inferno. “Those snooty little ponies! Judging me and my art! How dare they judge me?” He slouched in his seat and crossed his forelegs. All he could do was wait. He paced back and forth. Ponies tried to walk past him, but he blocked their way. “Hey! Want to buy a glass horse? How about a rooster?” They glared at him and pushed their way past. All he could do was ignore his grumbling stomach. He tried to relieve it by drinking water, but it growled like a beast. He rubbed his belly. “Just be patient. I’m sure somepony will buy soon.” He rubbed the tiny glass unicorn between his hooves. He wasn’t even sure if you could even call it that. It was crude and misshapen, more like a unrefined hunk of crystal, but it was his. He remembered having fun, at least before he tried to show his friends. But they told me that it was garbage and that he should give up. But he couldn’t. He has way too much fun making it, so he kept going. When he first started, he met others who had shared his passion. At least at first. But eventually, their interests waded and he was left alone. The few he knew that became great eventually forgot about him and everypony else gave up. He wanted to be different from the rest. He vowed on that day never to give up. He created as many pieces as he could. Studied every book, tried to follow other sculptor’s techniques, found a mentor and yet... nothing. It felt like nopony liked what he made. Glancing at the rest of the pieces, he noticed a very small trend appearing. Gradually, they became sharper, clearer, more defined. He yawned. Lately it’s been becoming more of a chore to make them. He had hoped that he could sell something, even just one thing, to prove he hadn’t completely wasted his time. But no matter what he did, others criticized his creations. After a while, it just stopped being fun. He used to take joy in his work, used to be proud, but now... it wasn’t the same. Still, he felt that he had to keep going. If he was going to become great some day, he had to push through. He took a deep breath before grabbing each piece and gently setting them into their proper casings. After setting them on his trolley, he pushed it towards his home. Perhaps one day. Just gotta not give up, that’s all.