//------------------------------//
// The Third Chapter 
// Story: Just one of those days 
// by Commonancestry 
//------------------------------//

As I stumbled out of the hospital doors, I felt little more normal than I had for a few days. Is it weird that I felt proud to have lasted 3 days inside? The beds were comfy with a hangover and thumping headache, in the same way that a drunk can fall asleep while taped upside down to a tree and still claim to be comfy. The food was passable as well, though I’ve never seen so many different ways of cooking potatoes in such a short period. I mean, what the hell are Chechski or Tsar Niklas potatoes? Turns out they’re both chips. The worst part though was the mind numbing tedium. I’ve never been so bored in my entire life, and that’s including Ms. Bradcrumble’s Equiish lessons. Her lessons lead to me often considering chewing my own leg off like a coyote stuck in a trap. It wouldn’t help mind you, but it might’ve eased the boredom somewhat.

I’d barely had a chance to look around the town before me and gravity had a disagreement in that bar. It seemed a fairly nice place all things considered, though a bit small and pokey for my liking. Guess that’s what happens when you hop on the midnight train out of town going anywhere. And before you ask, I am not a city stallion, I was neither born nor was I raised in South Detrot. Damn Journeigh, making ridiculously catchy music. 

At this point, I had no idea what I was going to do until it had all calmed down back home. I reckoned another week or so, and it all should’ve blown over. Possibly. Well, probably not, but enough that I wouldn’t be stoned on sight. Not with very big ones anyway, unless the Mayor got involved. It was only a small explosion anyway. It’s not like there’d be any permanent physical damage to anyone but me, and even I was starting to get better. Not far from the hospital was a rather pleasant looking park, dotted with a number of benches. Looks like my afternoon just planned itself out quite nicely. I took of my saddle bags, and slumped myself down on one of said benches and adopted the position. No not that one, I’m neither a mare nor that flexible.

Though it was only a bench, I was grateful for anything other than that damned hospital bed. If I can find hard wood more pleasurable than those beds, that’s saying something. And get your mind out of the gutter. Filthy buggers. 

As I lay on my back, I thought about the past week. It hadn’t been a catastrophic failure, but it’d been damn close to one. I guess it all started with the run in with the Mayors daughter, Melody. Voice of an angel, flanks of an Alicorn, brains the size of an abnormally fleshy walnut. I’m not calling her stupid, not at all; she’s probably considered very intelligent in some walks of life. It's just that those walks of life don't appreciate some of the finer things in life, such as mathematics, and art, and polysyllabic words. Anyway, from what I can tell, she’s a bit of a fan of mine.  The only issue is her Mother, who also happened to be the Mayor of my little suburban paradise. Lovely mare, no issues with her, especially as she’s the only one who signs my pay cheque at the end of the week for fixing a few things. She just doesn’t like her daughter lusting after a handsome stallion that barely brings home enough haybacon at the end of the day for breakfast the morning after.

Granted last week was my fault for any number of reasons. Not setting an alarm is never a good start, or even staying at all after dancing the sideways samba is often a mistake. Hell, even following my bosses daughter home after a night out was a bad idea. But still, there was no reason to blow up on me. It’s just a good thing the window was open, though I will have to have a word with whoever has been strategically placing thorn bushes outside of 1st floor windows of late. It’s unpleasant and unnecessary, even if it did break my fall.

A singular drop of freezing rain, landing square on my muzzle broke me out of my revisiting of the past week or so. Another followed swiftly, closely followed by another dozen or so before I realised how much the wind had picked up. I opened my eyes, and studied the skies. Hadn’t it been sunny before I came out of the hospital? Or at least slightly overcast. And where the hell had all this wind come from? I looked around the now deserted park, noticing the miniature dust devils being whipped around on the path. A piece of paper, carefully stapled to a tree broke off in the wind and decided it wanted to be a new and slightly comical addition to my face. After peeling it from my cheek, I studied the bold and self-important looking words. 

STORM SCHEDULED FOR 1500 ON THE 15th THROUGH TO 0600 THE FOLLOWING MORNING. ALL ARE ADVISED TO STAY INDOORS DURING THIS PERIOD.

I could be wrong, but wasn’t today the 15th? And going from the rain, winds, and impending sense of doom, I would’ve put money on it being around 3pm. How convenient of that note to pop into existence now, and not an hour so ago.

“Well this week couldn’t really get any worse now, could it?” I muttered quietly to no one in particular, almost as if I were trying not to catch the skies attention. As soon as the words had left my mouth, I heard a faint grumble in the distance. It built steadily, like a landslide careening down a mountain starts with just a few loose pebbles. The thunder rolled over head, spreading like a tidal wave of noise. It subsided, leaving nothing but that eerie silence that pervades in the calm before a storm really gets into the swing of things. I slid off the bench, and was just starting to put my saddle bags on when the sky exploded. The lightning was both blinding and deafening. 

“I just had to say it, didn’t I?!” I screamed at myself, as I ran as fast as an temporarily crippled Pegasus could. “I had to go and say the worst possible phrase a pony can ever say in any situation!” You know when I said it was turning out to be one of those weeks? Looks like it wasn’t going to stop any time soon.