EATING DIRT
England – 1967
“Michael! Get up, it’s time for school honey!” a feminine voice called out from downstairs. A teenage boy groaned as he rolled out of his bed, his duvet following his path and landing on a pile, crushing him down with its feathery weight.
Michael brushed a lock of brown hair from his eyes as he looked out from under the comfy pile before letting out an exasperated sigh. He pushed himself up onto his knees, letting the duvet fall to the floor.
“Coming Mum!” he groaned, pulling up a pair of trousers laying on the cream carpet (though it really should be white).
He hopped downstairs, sleep in the crevices of his red eyes and the watery residue of a wake up splash still left in his hair. A blue rucksack was slung over his shoulder. He looked over to the dining table, in which a red and white checked cloth was laid over, decorated with 3 bowls and box of cereal in the centre, along with a glass bottle of milk.
Looking over at the grandfather clock able to be seen through the door way into the living room, Michael started to panic.
“Sorry Mum, ain’t got time to eat, Bye!” he explained, before opening the front door onto the porch, heavily decorated with lush green. To the right he could see an Alfa Romeo 1750 Berlina in the drive way and a chained up bike next to it.
Slinging his rucksack all the way over his shoulders, he unchained and hopped on the bike and set off.
He clung onto the bars as he raced off, dodging in and out of the sparse traffic. The bell of the church, rising above the other buildings could be seen, indicating he was close to school.
Without looking he turned the corner, eyes still fixed on the bell for a moment too long. He turned back to face where he was going when a loud horn flared!
Everything turned a blinding white… there was a deafening silence… then… a ringing could be heard. Not so loud but it echoed through Michael’s, his ears popped painfully and then…
“What in Celestia’s name is that?!” a voice called out. The white started to fade leaving a horrid black in its wake. The trot of horse hooves could be heard, loud and fast but getting quieter.
Michael opened his eyes and started to regain his senses. He was still plunged in darkness but he could see a faint green and soon, as his eyes adjusted, he could see grass – taste it too!
He tried to move his arms to push himself up, but an intense cold surged through him, and his limbs spasmed, his head crashing back into the earth.
But something wasn’t right – apart from the obvious, unknown voice and the fact he was eating mud – he couldn’t feel the soft, hand knitted jumper against his skin. He couldn’t feel the irritating material of his trousers against his legs. He couldn’t even feel the soft vest and pants he should’ve been wearing!
Managing to push himself barely upwards, Michael looked along his belly and… yup, he was naked!
Another cold surge rushed through him, his limbs failing yet again as his face ploughed down into the earth…
“Darling… what is that thing?” a rather regal voice spoke with a disgusted undertone.
“I… I don’t know…” a rather shamed voice admitted.
“It looks a bit like Spike… Kinda…” a hoarse, tomboyish voice suggested.
“It does have two arms and two legs like Spike!” a hyperactive voice jumped in, wavering in tone as if it were moving up and down fast.
“It’s… um… kind of like a… um… monkey… but bigger,” a shy voice joined interrupted.
“Ah don’t know what it is but Ah just found it sprawled out under one of mah apple trees…” a Texan voice chimed.
Michael groaned gently, his eyes fluttering open again as he looked out into the rather surprised, violet eyes of another. Below, the telltale signs of a grin could be seen forming at the end of a snout like mouth.
Twilight and the others all watched carefully and silently, apart from the often sound of feet (or hooves in this case) hitting the wooden floorboards.
After processing everything, Michael’s eyes opened in horror as he rolled away, getting tangled up in a thin sheet and falling off the side of a relatively tall piece of furniture, which he could now see to be a very awkwardly shaped bed.
Wrapped up in a fastly sealed cocoon of sheets, Michael writhed about horribly. Worm like in his movements, he only travelled a short distance before four alabaster hooves stepped in front of his oath.
“What’s wrong?” Rarity asked concernedly as she bent her head down to the mortified human at her feet.
“I… I… you… horse… ENGLISH?!” he shouted in broken sentences, trying to get to his feet and only succeeding in falling onto his back.
A purple head leaned down over him. “We’re not horses… we’re ponies… and you might want to stop wriggling around otherwise you’ll hurt yourself,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Michael let out a long breath, closing his red rimmed eyes that seemed as he was deprived of sleep. He let out several long breaths out of his mouth before opening his eyes again. He gently tried to open up the sheets before realising he was still naked and closed up, but leaving enough space to manoeuvre.
He jumped to his feet and sat back on the bed, looking around at all the ponies stood around him, all looking curiously at him, one even bouncing with joy it seemed.
To his left, there was an alabaster unicorn, her deep purple mane combed to such an extent to seem to have taken days to complete. Curls of the hair puffed from her forehead, in a similar fashion to her equally as priceless tail.
Twilight stood next to a violet alicorn, wings folded tightly against her side. Her mane was of a dark orchid, a magenta streak passing through near the centre. Both her tail and mane ended abruptly in clean, straight cuts before they impaired her view.
To Michael’s right, an orange pony stood, a brown Stetson upon her head. She had white-yellow freckles on her cheeks, a lighter version of her golden blonde hair, both her mane and tail tied ironically into pony tails.
A sky blue pegasus hovered above the earth pony. She wore a refractive mane, displaying indigo, blue, lime green, pastel yellow, orange and scarlet red. Her mane and tail were styled rather haphazardly, quite contrarily to the pristine Rarity.
Behind Michael, an impossibly pink pony bounced, her poofy (somehow impossibly pinker) mane wobbling cautiously upon her head. Her equally curly tail, however, seemed to stay in play, deciding to not obey the laws of physics and go along with her form.
Next to Pinkie, a shy, pastel yellow pegasus hid behind her mane, a light pink, curled at the tips. Her legs wobbled as she crouched down on them, as if trying to get as close to the floor as possible.
“OK, I presume, seeing as you are all very… bare… you don’t have any clothes?”