What Human?

by Apocalyptic Fries


What Human?

I don't remember how I got here, but I suppose that is not important. All I know is, three years ago I woke up in Equestria, briefly talked to the Princesses about my situation and concluded, there's no going home.
After that I settled-down in Appleloosa, and since then I've mostly just kept to myself and tried to stay out of trouble. Trouble has yet to find me either.
Opposite of what some might expect for someone in my position, while naturally my life got turned upside-down by my unwanted removal from my own realm of reality, things haven't been very different in Equestria since I got here, near as I could tell.
I have a few friends. We play poker every once in a great while, but I don't see them much besides that, and I imagine they would not be nursing emotional wounds or broken hearts should I announce I wished to live somewhere else. I imagine their lives have not been all that different since I entered them, and no doubt they would proceed as usual if I were to leave.
Upon my arrival, or more accurately my discovery, I was not given any kind of fanfare. I was not scrutinized upon being found, I was not printed in the papers, I was not even regarded as a threat of any kind. Ponies know nothing of humans, which I should suppose is for the better.
If someone from back home were to find himself here, and if he should ask about me, the Equestrians might look at him and say, "What human?"
Contrary to what some may believe, it was not, at least not that I could tell, some divine interference from either Celestia, Twilight or gods yet unnamed. Anyone I asked about having such powers as summoning or conjuring denied it; even Equestria's foremost magic user, Twilight Sparkle, claimed she was not involved in any kind of magical shenanigans nor wrapped-up in any particularly groundbreaking experiment leading up to my arrival. In fact, she didn't even want to study me or ask me any questions about what I was or where I came from. I suspect plenty of unusual species inhabit her land and she has gotten rather used to seeing new arrivals.
By her account, life was fairly uneventful. The day I awoke in Equestria and took my first stride across its fair soils, she recalled only having a picnic with her friends, going to the spa, and perusing a few books she had been studying of late. Aside from nearly being exposed to aloe vera, which she was allergic to, at the spa, nothing unusual happened to her that day.
I would recall a similar tale of my last day on Earth. I got up that morning, went to work, came home that evening and watched a movie. Which one, I cannot recall.
Yes, I was among those who called ourselves Bronies, fond of a television show aimed mostly at young girls but meant for everyone. But I considered it much as I did any other fiction which caught my notice as solely that - fiction. I had always dismissed the idea of the show's setting being real.
Yet here I am, writing this down in my remote cabin in the southwest of Appleloosa. It is every bit as real as my old home.
Yet no one seemed to care when I got here. I suppose I would have been foolish to suspect I would be in any prolonged contact with any of the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, or any pony even seen on the show at all for that matter.
I was not warped out of space and time for someone's nefarious purposes. Discord himself showed the utmost apathy to my presence and even said, "If I had intended to summon a creature from a faraway land for any purpose, I could certainly have done better than this." (Emphasis his, not mine.) For the record, even he had no idea how to send me home (his powers are confined to this realm of reality, they are not far-reaching into others); with all other possibilities exhausted, the only solution left was to stay here and make my own living.
I did not expect to be treated with anything but cold indifference when I got here, so his reaction to me was hardly surprising. And even this Lyra, about whom I have heard so much, did not seem to care when we crossed paths in Canterlot during my brief conference with the Princesses. Our meeting consisted of an awkward bump on a crosswalk, both of us exchanging curt apologies, and then walking out of each other's lives forever. Her life has no doubt proceeded as if I were the one whose story was a mere fiction of which she had never heard.
I never even had Pinkie Pie throw me a party. What, did you expect she knew everyone in all of Equestria? Try as she might, even such a dimension-warper has her limitations. I never saw hide nor hair of her when I got here, and she remains as thin of air as any other notable figure on the show in my life.
To their credit, the citizens did welcome me as a friend, or more accurately an acquaintance with whom they did not yet have a reason to quarrel, but I resolved to make it on my own, and so I did - when it became clear there was no going back, I simply left to settle down someplace quiet.
No one followed me there, and I expect I would be buried with a tombstone not unlike one any other denizen here might receive. I came into this world with naught but the clothes on my back, and I expect to leave it with even emptier hands.
I don't really know why I'm writing this. I don't expect anyone will read it, or for that matter gain much of value from it. When I inevitably die one day, all that will be left of my impact on Equestrian history will be this house and this letter to no one in particular, which like everything else will eventually be swept aside.
So, if you come looking for me, do not be surprised if no one seems to care who I am or where I am living. The most you can expect in response to any question you ask is, "What human?"