Flowers Through Asphalt

by Corah Il Cappo


Chapter Only

They had called it a revolution.

The Age of Iron.

The Age of Expanse.

We raped the earth, siphoning her of her resources. Cities and factories sprang up by the hundreds. What precious little we didn't dig up or build atop, we paved over. Asphalt roads, concrete aqueducts, and cobblestone plazas soon replaced the flower gardens and grassy knolls. Equestria became a kingdom built on stone and iron.

Our great need for consumption spurred on the factories, as they churned out new products at an alarming rate. At the same rate they produced our goods, they polluted our air. Every factory poured out gallons of soot and ash, burning the sky as we had done the earth. After only ten years, the blue skies over Ponyville had been replaced with a hazy yellow-brown smog. At first, we choked on it. However, it soon became normal.

The princesses wholeheartedly supported our actions. It was a messy affair to be sure, but nopony said the revolution would be clean. For the first time in history, we had seen an explosion of new technology. Trains were faster, homes were sturdier, clothing and tools were made faster and cheaper. Progress was a good thing. What was it to lose some grass and flowers when we gained so much?

Agriculture too was revolutionized. Now it was done indoors, in climate controlled facilities. The plants were crossbred with one another, slowly but surely working to weed out their imperfections. These crops grew bigger, stronger, and faster than ever before. Food was plentiful under the new systems, and ponies who had previously starved were now eating like kings. So what if these new plants shriveled and withered when out of their habitats?

It was in this world that I won a meager living for myself. Before the revolution, I was named Roseluck. Nowadays though, nopony uses names. They're always so busy. They great each other with "hello" and bid each other "goodbye" with the same breath. Rushing here, rushing there, with nary a moment to stop and chat, let alone to visit my humble little stall.

Everyday I set up shop in the same place. At the corner of Saddleback and Main Street in the shadow of the iron refinery. I run a little flower shop, though my wares had seen better days. I used to sell daffodils and daisies and lilies by the bunch, but now I'm lucky if I can scrounge together a single dandelion bouquet. When I do have other flowers on display, they're badly browned and wilted. It was a grim reminder of what our world had become.

Nopony bought flowers anymore. I didn't blame them. Flowers were a thing of the past. Little fillies used to make daisy chains, but now they worked in the textile mills. Stallions used to present their lovers with elegant bouquets of roses. Now they simply bought jewelry. Mares used to come in droves to taste my famous lavender-strawberry salad. Now they just had their lunches to go. Every once in a while, somepony would come along and drop a spare bit on my counter. They never took anything from my stock. They just wrote it off as their good deed for the day and went on.

The world had moved on, and in its mad dash forward, it left me behind. I became a relic. A thing of the past. A reminder of sometime in the past, before the great leap forward. I remembered those days fondly. I may as well have been the only one.

Equestria had forgotten herself. She had forgotten the trees, the flowers, the grass. She had forgotten what it felt like to gaze upon the stars in a sky untouched by soot. She had forgotten how to make wishes upon the fluffy white heads of dandelions. Everyday I stood as a testament to this legacy in my stall upon Saddleback and Main Street, peddling my flowers with a smile, just as I had always done.

When the day was done, I trod the asphalt covered streets to my "home". A single room apartment with a single window. The window faced only the soot covered brick wall of the next building, as well as the perpetual river of stink and filth that was the alley below. But this place is not my home. Home is where the heart is, and my heart is far from here.

No, my heart is far from this apartment, far beyond the borders of Equestria and into the world beyond. My heart is over the mountains, out of reach from the stone, steel, and smog. It is amid grassy, windswept planes teeming with Queen Anne's lace. It is on rocky crags plucking the roses from amid thorns. It is in a sunny glade in the forest, plucking a patch of posies. It was lying on my back and gazing up at the stars in a clear night sky.

My heart was in a place and a time that other ponies had forgotten. It was a place a longed to go to. A place I dreamed of. Yet knew I could not see. But I cling to the hope that somewhere out there it exists.

My dreams may be buried beneath gravel and metal, but they cannot be detained forever. The fibrous roots will push apart asphalt, and they will bloom despite their circumstance. They will drink in the putrid air, and purify it within themselves. The earth will be green once more, and the sky shall be clean and sweet. The fires of industry will flicker and fade, before they are no more than ashes and memories. The revolutions poison would finally be cured.

And one day, I would finally leave behind the muck and grime of this city. I would head over the mountains. I would finally live out my dream, and find the place my heart so desired.

One day.

But not today.