One Colorful Mind

by Prince Solstice

Imperfections

Marijuana consumed the air, and my lungs. Peaceful inhales, and peaceful exhales. A calm meditative rhythm. I never knew moments like this could be invigorating before I tired it. I sat on my back porch, on a step that was cracked. Not to the point of disrepair, or that it would become dangerous. Just, a crack. I sat there and looked at it deeply. Wishing that the reflections of water would magically appear.

"I must be tripping." I seem to speak out loud to myself a little too often.

"I'm sorry darling, come again?" this time without any flinch from me, I calmly turned around to see Rarity, standing behind me.

"Don't worry about it..." I took another hit off my small pipe, and Rarity gagged at the smell. Something must have caught her off guard, because she quickly desisted in her gagging.

"Oh my, that is a beautiful piece. What is the name of it?" Rarity came and sat next to me, much like a dog of some sorts. I just eyeballed my piece, admiring it's beauty. The weed had began to seep slowly into my mind.

"It's, uh, its name is Count Crocula." I laughed at the name. "It ain't perfect, it has a small crack in it."

"Oh don't worry darling, it gives it character." I looked at the crack of my family heirloom. It had been done by my brother. It still functions though. I stared into the glass, it's soft mixture of colors reflected my image, and the small lizard on top stared back at me.

"Character. It must be why we name our pieces." I chuckled at my joke. Rarity seemed to disagree.

"I think you name your pipes, er, your pieces because anything held close to you deserves a name. Why just look at my little lady Opalescence. She is just the most wonderful thing, and I hold her very close to me." I knew my rebuttal before she had finished.

"Well, that's something that is actually alive." I said so matter of factly. "It doesn't explain why I hold it close to me. Everyone has their reasons." I thought I had been logical enough in my answer to attain the quiet atmosphere again. I took another hit off my pipe.

"Well, you see, there is a reason for everyone. Plus, I didn't want to bring this up, but I name all of my beauty products." I looked over at her, curious. She seemed a little dramatic, but I wanted to let her continue. "In fact, my hairbrush is named Floyd. After a young foalhood sweetheart I had. He had the must ravishing mane. It was more of an indigo color, and outshines even his color." She shifted a little "I haven't seen him around, in ages, but I can never forget such style."

I didn't take anything from that. I was too busy thinking about my pipe as an actual living thing. It's features and it's function were near flawless. Yet somehow, a crack still remained, and somehow, the character of Count Crocula was it's own.

Author's Note:

Crocula: Croc-u-la. Like dracula just dra becomes cro. Yes that is a real pipe. Yes this chapter is finished.

Welp another little chapter. I've decided that when I was done, with telling what the little story I had to tell, I would not drag it on. That's just a sign of poor writing, to drag something on longer than it has to.

Again, this is purposefully vague, it's part of the story, and trust me, it's better this way.