//------------------------------//
// Reprise 
// Story: Waking Life 
// by FullMetalFurbee 
//------------------------------//

Warm summer silence blanketed Mac's trip back to the farm. Alone with his thoughts, he intrinsically reviewed all of the day's odd and somewhat troubling conversations. His mind worked in overdrive as he ascended the dirt path to his house. When he arrived at last, the farm was dark. After all, it deep into the night. He unhitched from the cart and padded quietly up the wooden porch steps. The rest of the Apple family was nowhere to be seen. Mac assumed they were asleep, and headed upstairs to his own room. He didn't bother flipping on the lights. Instead, he flopped right into bed and rubbed his weary eyes. The clock on the wall acted much like a hypnotic spell. With each miniscule tick, Mac felt himself edging closer to the brink of sleep. He shut his eyes and pulled his blankets into a clump to spoon. The longer he lay there, the lighter he felt. His comfortable sleepiness increased at a steady rate until he felt almost entirely weightless.
A soft rustling brought his awareness back up a minute amount. The blankets slid out of his grasp and his head sank lower. Sensing something was off, he opened his eyes and looked around. His bed was a foot below him. He was hovering in midair – his body bobbing softly like a lazy balloon.
He flailed his arms about and grunted in bafflement. There was nothing to anchor himself to. By now he was halfway between his bed and the ceiling. He continued to thrash vainly and thought to himself, I must be dreaming!
Largely on impulse, he raised a hoof to his mouth and bit into his arm. The resulting pain jolted him awake. His eyes shot open to a boundless azure sky. He climbed to a sitting position and drank in his surroundings. Sprawling grasslands surrounded him in all directions. As far as the eye could see, silky green oceans rustled in the gentle breeze. Mac rubbed his arm and stood. A darkly colored form sprouted up from the grass about a hundred feet away, contrasting the natural colors. Mac decided to take a chance and approach the form.
Princess Luna lay comfortably in the tall grass. She tapped furiously at a little typewriter by pecking the keys with magic. Oblivious to Mac's presence, she slaved away at her task while periodically voicing a quiet hmm... or ah!
Mac circled around and sat down in front of her.
She instantly noticed him and stopped typing. “Oh! My goodness, is this your dream? I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to invade. I didn't even know this dream was being used. I usually try to keep to uninhabited ones.”
“S'fine,” Mac assured her.
“Well, if you say so. In any case, I don't believe I've met you before,” said Luna. “I guess it's pretty obvious who I am. What's your name?”
“Big Macintosh.”
She shifted around on her belly. “Big Macintosh. It's a pleasure. You don't mind if I stay in this dream for a while do you? It's one of the most peaceful I've found in weeks.”
Mac smiled. “Go ahead.”
“Thanks. I usually try to keep things varied, but everypony has been having a lot of nightmares lately. Sometimes I just want to relax. I've been jumping around more than I ever have before. Needless to say, I've been meeting tons of new ponies. Somepony once said something I like. I can't remember who said it, but it's a great quote. 'The idea is to remain in a constant state of departure, while always arriving. It saves on introductions and goodbyes. The ride does not require explanation, just occupants.' So anyway, you've crafted a wonderful dream here. Thanks for letting me stay a while.”
“You're welcome. Whatcha' writin'?” asked Mac.
“A novel,” answered Luna. “I'm right near the end, but I can't for the life of me figure out how to end it. There's no reprise, no grand finale. It's about relationships, emotions, moments, everything. I guess you could say it's cyclical in nature, but it still needs an ending. Every story needs at least some kind of ending, whether it be conclusive or not. ”
Mac tapped his chin. “Hm. Eeyup.”
“Maybe I'll write you,” said Luna. “You seem like a stallion of few words. Maybe the story could use that. Tell me, what were you doing just before you came here?”
Mac thought back to his startling experience. “Not sure. I thought I was awake, but I woke up from my last dream straight into this one.”
“Ooh, a false awakening,” marveled Luna. She tapped away on the typewriter. “How does that make you feel?”
“Kinda scared. I really thought I was awake. I don't feel any different now. I still feel like I'm awake.”
Luna changed positions. “Well don't worry. You're not. In fact, you might have been asleep a lot longer than you thought.”
“Makes me nervous about wakin' up again. What's it called? False awakenin'? I dunno what I'm gonna find when I shut my eyes again. What if it's another dream?”
Luna shrugged. “Is that so bad? I spend a lot of my time in dreams.”
“Yeah, but I got work to do,” Mac protested. “I can't afford to get lost in my dreams.”
“Well, then I see only one solution,” said Luna. “Wake yourself up. See what happens. Remember the signs to check if you're really awake?”
“Eeyup, but how did ya know I knew 'em?”
Luna smiled. “I think everypony should know them. So I just assume they do.”
Mac let himself fall back onto a bed of grass. Again he stared into the infinite sky. “What am I gonna find when I shut my eyes?”
“I have no idea,” Luna admitted. “Something new, at least. You might find waking life different than you remember it. That happens to me sometimes when I spend too much time here. Hey, that's a pretty good line. You're a good character. In fact, I think I know how to finish the story now. Thank you, Big Macintosh.”
“You're welcome, Princess. It was really nice meetin' ya. I hope I can see ya in the real world someday. Bye,” said Mac quietly. He sighed slowly and closed his eyes, preparing himself for whatever he may find on the other side. The breeze ruffled his fur softly. With the sun bathing him in warmth, he drifted off to sleep once more. Or, perhaps, he woke up.