Chapter 23: Friends
HOME AT LAST. Wow.
It was half past ten. No charioteers for the return trip had meant we’d had to make our own way from the Manehattan train station to the portal terminal, and we’d given up two more hours to track down Saddle Row and visit a few famous shops. Coco Pommel hadn’t been at Rarity For You, but it had still been quite an experience, what with a pair of raccoons carefully fitting me for loafers it turned out I couldn’t afford. (No, they weren’t made for humans—Rarity’s boutique actually stocked casual shoes for adolescent dragons. Peach had found the whole thing very amusing. “See, what’d I tell you? You can get anything in Manehattan.”)
Coming back through customs and security had eaten up another hour and a half, and then there’d been the subway ride back to Elizabeth and the bus back home. Entering apartment 412 was kind of surreal. Ever since I’d stepped back through the portal to Earth, a small voice in my head had been telling me that real life was a nightmare. Climbing three sets of stairs in the dark of night to reach a crowded urban apartment, exhausted… could this really be my life? Where was the bounce of Equestria? The eternal undercurrent of cheer? The omnipresent sense that things would work out for the best?
Then again, I wasn’t alone. I was with a pony who called the same place home I did, a unicorn who collapsed on the futon mattress even as I fell on the sofa. I’d left the whimsical fairyland behind, but somehow this peach-colored denizen of that place was still with me, and we knew each other so well that we didn’t need any words as we rested, happy to be home. How could that be my life?
But I did speak eventually. “It feels weird to be home.”
“Tell me about it,” said Peach.
I turned on a lamp. She made tea with ginger. I had some.
“You ‘re gonna call home in the morning?” she asked.
“Yeah. Let ‘em know I’m coming back, see if mom can line up that place she was talking about.”
There was a pause filled with only the slurping of tea. “Can’t help but feel kind of like an idiot for coming back here,” said Peach.
“What? Why’s that?”
She sighed a heartbreaking slow sigh. “Well, it kind of feels like my adventure’s done. I came here thinking it’d be exciting, like some big, scary thing would happen to me. But I was ready for it, or I tried to be. And… now it feels like it’s happened. I fell in love, that’s what happened. And it was big, and there was a scary part too, but now it’s done. I feel like I’m going down again for the first time in… in months. Like the future is less exciting, not more.”
I imagined life as a big roller coaster with big hills and rocky parts and flat parts. I didn’t know what part of my own coaster I was on. I really didn’t. It was like I was headed into a big mountain tunnel, and I didn’t know which way it would go. But the idea that Peach was past her biggest hill… filled me with sadness and shame. I wanted to cry for the sadness of it, but the shame didn’t let me. And I wasn’t even sure why I felt it.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Peach was silent as she futzed in the kitchenette.
“Are you working tomorrow?” she asked.
“No. I only had three days this week and I missed today and yesterday.” This didn’t help with my shame.
“Nn-kay. Maybe get started packing your stuff up,” she suggested. “The small stuff you don’t use so much.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
She came over and joined me on the sofa. “So who gets the mattress tonight? Are we going to switch off?”
I reflected. If being in love with a pony was strange, this was stranger. Cold practicalities. “Maybe we can still share it. We can just each keep to our own side.”
“Kay, but I’m a sleep roller,” Peach said. “Don’t get angry if I roll onto you.”
“I won’t.”
We finished our tea and turned out the light.
In the morning, Peach had rolled out of bed on the opposite side. I watched her quietly snoring on the floor for a while before I slipped a pillow under her head.
I was making breakfast by the time her alarm clock rang.
“Who! Whoa. What. Whazzit?” She tumbled from side to side.
“Morning,” I said, midway through frying a piece of French toast. “Did you sleep okay?”
She looked at me like I was the last thing she expected to see. “I had a bad dream.”
“That’s too bad. You remember what it was?”
She bunched up her mouth and thought. “I think we were married,” she said quietly.
My heart pumped. “That was your bad dream?”
“That wasn’t the bad part!”
“Well, what was it, then?”
She tried to think. “I can’t remember.”
This wasn’t exactly cheering, but what did it matter? I wasn’t going to be marrying Peach—she could have nightmares about it if she wanted, I supposed. “What’re you going to tell folks at work?”
Her ears rose cautiously. “About where I’ve been? I’ll tell the truth, if they ask.”
“You’re not just gonna say you’ve been sick?”
She gave me a look. “I hardly ever lie. I lied about not wanting to be with you, and I regretted it. Not gonna lie about this.”
“I don’t think I can tell my coworkers I went to Equestria,” I admitted. “I’m gonna stick with being sick.”
Peach snorted at me and looked down. I felt my shame rising.
“You want some French toast?”
“Yeah I want some toast,” she replied.
I couldn’t stay in the apartment after she was gone. It had too much to do with her. So I went up the block to a vacant lot overgrown with tall grass and made my calls from there.
Mom was kind of quietly glad I was coming back, like it was overdue but a little disappointing just the same. My sister didn’t seem to care much one way or another, but promised that we’d see each other more. Noam, though, asked me a bunch of questions about my ponyfriend. I told him we’d had a fling but it hadn’t worked out, that I couldn’t really see myself with her and regretted giving up my apartment. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him I’d been to Equestria.
As I emerged from the tall grass and walked up the street, I wondered whether I’d ever tell anyone about the trip. If I didn’t, would it start to seem like it hadn’t really happened? Like it was just a dream?
Then I remembered—someone did know. I’d made a panicked phone call to Laurie just before leaving with Opli Dexia and Second Sight. It was actually kind of a relief to know that I couldn’t keep it secret.
Still, it took me a while to work up the nerve to call her.
“I’m so glad to hear from you, Ron. I’ve been freaking out a little since you called. Did everything go okay? Are you safe?”
“I’m okay. Peach is too. You were actually worried about me? What were you afraid was going to happen to me in Equestria?”
“Christ, could be anything. They could have turned you into a pony, or taken away all your bad feelings, or cast some sort of spell.”
“I was actually there to get a spell fixed.” Without dragging out the details, I told Laurie what had happened.
She was silent for a lot of it. “That’s amazing. That’s fucking crazy.”
“I know,” I said, ambling past a warehouse loading dock.
“It sounds like Peach’s family treated you kind of like Jack treated Peach.”
I considered that, smirking. “Kind of.”
“I don’t know if you were really unlucky or really lucky. But I think you were really lucky, Ron. I wish I could have gone.”
“I wish you could have too. Oh, but I did take your advice and try some local produce.” I described what I’d eaten, especially the kumquats and peaches.
“They were really good, huh?”
“They had something to them I never really tasted before.”
“Did you ever have a really fresh peach before? I’m wondering how they stack up to fresh-off-the-tree fruit here on Earth.”
I considered. “I don’t think I have, really.”
“You know, it’s July now. You should take Peach to an orchard, like you were going to.” She hesitated. “If she still wants to go places with you, that is.”
“Yeah. You’re right, I should. Maybe there’s time before…” I swallowed. “So the other thing, Laurie, is that I’ve decided it’s finally time to leave town.”
Well, that opened up an awkward can of worms.
Laurie said she’d miss me being around. The fact was, I didn’t see her that often anyway, and it wasn’t looking like I was going to get my hours back at the garden store come winter. (Having suddenly called in sick for two days wasn’t going to help.) I told her that the whole thing with Peach wasn’t driving me away, but it didn’t make sense to stay here.
She understood. We agreed to get together one last time before I left, but I didn’t know when that would be.
I was blocks away from home by that time. I wandered my neighborhood feeling conflicted in half a dozen ways, like my guts were hooked up to a net pulling away in all directions. Finally, on impulse, I caught the 116 to Manhattan.
Why was I going? Did I really want to retread my path from last night? To see New Alliances Terminal again? Strangely, it wasn’t until I’d almost reached the island that I realized: it was Thursday. I could drop in on a lunchtime meet-up at Turtlewood Coffee.
It crossed my mind that it might be rude to show up for the pony meet-up without a pony companion. But what did I have to lose? I could just sit and listen if I wanted to. I’d come to realize it wasn’t ponies in general I wanted to escape—it was Peach Spark. Ponies were great, and in some way it felt like I still needed them. I’d realized I was going to have to wean myself off equine company, and this might be my last chance before leaving town.
I walked for miles through gleaming, prime commercial districts. My eyes lazily took in things for sale, but I wasn’t even thinking about shopping. I tried to contemplate what sort of job I might look for back in Trenton, and whether the job search there might be any easier than it was here.
Turtlewood Coffee appeared. I swallowed back an urge to walk away. Going in was tougher than I’d expected. But I’d come all that way, and I kept telling myself, what do I have to lose? If the ponies aren’t glad to see me, I probably won’t ever see them again anyway.
I didn’t recognize the barrista. There weren’t any ponies in the main area, but I could detect their appealing scent around the corner. It was coming up on noon. I ordered a coffee and sat nervously, trying to read the Times on my phone but unable to focus. Once half the coffee was gone, I sighed, got up, and walked around the corner to the meet-up.
“…may represent some of our distant hopes and dreams, but I don’t think it belongs in our platform,” a tan stallion with curly hair was saying. The first thing I noticed about the group was that it wasn’t all ponies: a handful of humans were there too. I recognized Meg Dougherty in the back of the small crowd… and that stubbled fat man at the table was Uncle Clyde, one of the organizers of our trip to Murkowski Ranch down the shore.
“If you believe in something,” insisted a gruff red stallion with matted hair, who had to clear his throat and start over. “If you believe in something, you make it clear that’s your belief. That’s my experience. Do that, or someone gets unpleasantly surprised down the road, and you’ve got a schism.” It was Red Rover, Uncle Clyde’s ally.
The second thing I noticed about the group was its tense energy. Everyone was gathered around the table in the niche, pressed in close, with others standing and watching. There were papers on the table with scribbled notes. I saw the aquatic greens of Kellydell and Seaswell in the midst of things… and there was George Harrison, standing next to the light blue earth mare with the tumbling domino cutie mark I remembered playing ponies with. Skelter, that was her name. They were haunch to haunch, clearly here together.
The tan stallion shook his curls. “If we say we’re in favor of Night Light, the media bashes us,” he countered. “And it gets the royalty in hot water, too. The Night Light Doctrine isn’t supposed to be real!”
“It shouldn’t be anyone’s credo,” said Uncle Clyde, commanding the floor with his unpolished, greasy voice. “But it should be on the table. We’re talking long-term here, aren’t we? We can’t be afraid of long-term visions!”
“But people are afraid of the Night Light Doctrine!” said Kellydell, pushing forward. “At the least, we shouldn’t refer to it that way.”
“It’s true,” said Red Rover. “You can usually be honest without having to be incendiary.”
A garble of voices followed that. That’s when a face happened to glance my way and a pair of eyebrows went up. “Now there’s someone who ought to be with us,” said George Harrison. “Don’t be standoffish, Sergeant. It’s good to see your face.”
I wasn’t sure I could say the same about him, but it was definitely nice to be welcomed. “Hi,” I said, stepping forward.
A bunch of eyes were turning my way. “I know this guy,” said Kellydell. “He lives with Peach Spark. At least he used to—how did things go with the royal mage?”
I hadn’t really banked on debriefing in front of a crowd, but several of them were folks I wanted to tell. So I sat down at the table I’d played ponies at three weeks earlier and quietly told Kellydell about my trip to Equestria—there just happened to be twenty other people listening in. I tried to stay focused on Kellydell and Seaswell, with a glance at George now and then, but I couldn’t help but notice how raptly the rest of the crowd was listening. They’d certainly put their own discussion, whatever it was, on hold.
“Now there’s something for our literature,” Red Rover interrupted when I got to the part in which Cadance carefully undid the magic she’d done. “Pony leaders actually care about fixing their mistakes.” Someone with paper diligently scribbled this down.
“You think it was a mistake?” said Uncle Clyde. “Sure it wasn’t all a big plan?”
“You never know. But I was there at that mixer, remember? I actually hobnobbed with the minotaur guy, Mighty Tongue Max. Easy to believe he could get even a princess aggravated. Got the sense they chose their ambassador by contest.”
“Did you see Cadance enchant Pepper?” asked Skelter.
“I saw her casting spells at the troublemakers, but I don’t remember that particular spell. Still. Everyone makes mistakes.” Red Rover turned to the pony with the pen in her mouth. “Equestrian leaders care more about making things right than saving their image. Write that down.”
“That’s a good one,” said the curly-haired tan stallion.
“Can I pause to ask what all this is about?” I said.
“Absolutely!” said Kellydell. “This is a formative meeting for the Friends of Equestria society.”
“Just ‘Friends of Equestria,’” said a dark gray stallion.
“Who are the Friends of Equestria?”
Uncle Clyde spoke up. “Those of us who happen to think the ponies have it about right. That we should be learning from them, and supporting them. That we should take our alliance seriously.”
I looked at the other human faces—a couple of men, a couple women, ranging from their twenties to forties. They looked serious. The young black woman raised her eyebrows at me.
A man in an unbuttoned business suit spoke. “The idea is that it’s a society for humans, but the Turtlewood crowd is helping us get started.”
“I still don’t think it needs to be humans only,” said Skelter. “We don’t live in Equestria anymore, but we can still care about being its friend, can’t we?”
This set off a murmured debate, but Kellydell zipped her hoof dramatically through the air. “Zipt! I want to hear the rest of Pepper’s story.”
This was exciting. I found I wanted to hear more about what they were doing here, but I couldn’t stop my story in the middle. So I described the process of being treated by the pink princess, and then having breakfast with her. I moved more quickly through the day I’d spent in Peach’s home town, figuring the crowd didn’t care as much about that, but found that they were actually paying just as much attention, if not more.
“Did you actually see them making carts?” asked Meg—the first thing she’d said to me since ‘Sorry, Ron.’
“No,” I replied, “but I saw Peach’s dad show off a new magic trick involving a harness…”
By the time I finished talking, everyone’s attention was thoroughly focused on me. “Amazing story,” said one of the other men.
“How do you feel about Cadance now?” asked the young black woman.
I gathered my thoughts and smiled. “She’s really charming. I actually feel like she’s beyond charming, somehow. It’s like you empathize with her instantly. I certainly don’t hold a grudge against her.”
“Sounds like you’re a shoo-in for our group, then.”
I licked my lip. “Well, what exactly do you believe in?”
It wasn’t easy to get a simple answer. I sat and sipped my coffee while the organization practiced describing who they were to me. It was messy—they didn’t completely agree on who they were yet, or what they were trying to accomplish, but I heard a lot of ambitious ideas. Using pony principles to guide our government… expanding trade… establishing programs to see whether, against the common wisdom, humans can do magic. They even got onto a tangent for a while about the Supreme Court ruling from last December that ponies can’t be prosecuted for not wearing clothes in public, and speculated about whether it might end up striking down indecent exposure laws. But the main thing they were working for, the core of it all, was opening Terran immigration to Equestria, which is why they’d cared so much about my experience.
“We have so much to offer,” said Kellydell. “How can we be in favor of shutting it all away?”
“Spoken like a true tour guide,” said the man in the business suit. “But that’s never going to be possible if we can’t get ponies to trust us.”
“I think I’m personally willing to do whatever it takes,” said Meg quietly. “And that includes talking to other people and convincing them to feel the same way.”
“But there are limits,” said a tall man with a creased face who looked like he was dressed for work at a diner. “We can’t just bend over backward and let Equestria tell us how to run our world. They’ll respect us more if we have principles we stand by.” He looked to the ponies as if for confirmation.
“I’d agree with that,” said Red Rover.
The gray stallion listed things off. “Peace, respect, a willingness to admit mistakes and work together to solve problems…”
“I don’t think humans need to be perfect,” said Seaswell. “We just need to know they’re safe.”
“No one is perfectly safe,” pointed out Uncle Clyde.
Seaswell looked down, abashed. “It’s just that… to us, it seems like humans have all these hidden tricks for taking over. We just need to know they won’t use them.”
“Hidden tricks?” asked the creased-face man. “Like what?”
Seaswell looked unsure, so his wife continued for him, gesturing to our surroundings. “Oh, he means things like business. Opening coffeeshops everywhere, or spreading television, making things out of plastic, that kind of thing. Anything to win us over.”
“And take all our money,” added Skelter.
The man in the suit replied. “But if we’d just be bringing things that ponies want, and are willing to pay for… where’s the danger?”
“I know it sounds good on paper, but just imagine Equestria built up like New York,” said Uncle Clyde. “Or worse, polluted like Beijing, or sprawling with parking lots and strip malls and chain stores like some giant suburb of Earth.”
I shuddered. I wasn’t alone. “Right then,” said George. “Seems we’ve got a disconnect between principle and promise. If ponyfolk are fine with each and every transaction, how do things get to there from where we are?”
No one happened to have an answer for that, so I took the opportunity to interrupt. “I’m actually curious… what spurred all this? I had no idea there was a movement like this in the making.”
Several voices tried to answer me at once, but Red Rover was given the floor. “It’s been coming for a while. Really, ever since Clyde and me met, we’ve been talking about opening the borders. “ He waved a foreleg to encompass everyone. “We’ve been bringing in more bodies and minds on that, and finally got around to scheduling a meeting. Say, I remember where I know you from. You were on my ranch trip, weren’t you? You rode the Appaloosa.”
I smiled timidly. “Yeah. So… is Turtlewood your headquarters? I haven’t seen you around here before.”
“We’re looking into getting a real headquarters, but I’d say a good part of the talk’s happened here. I don’t usually make it on Thursdays, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I nodded and looked at all the faces, most of which were paying attention. Some were murmuring to each other, starting up new conversations. “Is it possible I could join even if I’m not going to be living around here anymore?”
Red Rover stared, his hoof thunking to the floor. “Sure, kid. You can join the e-mail list. But what are you gonna move away for? You’ve got a better story than most—it’d be nice to have you around to tell it.”
The excitement I’d been feeling as the center of attention suddenly rose to my throat. Meg was watching me. George was watching me. Seaswell had his wing lifted in what seemed like tension.
I swallowed. My mind raced. I thought of studio apartments… the trip down the coast to see Terran ponies… Princess Cadance at Radio City…pony night at the Millennium… I flashed on excitedly following Peach through a Wal-Mart… explaining to her about the tooth fairy… helping her set up her blog… riding a paddleboat… watching the World Cup… giving a very needed hug… playing magnets… sharing a pineapple upside-down cake. I remembered George Harrison asking what my cutie mark would be, if I had one. I glanced at the assemblage and happened to find his eyes; it was like he was asking the question again, silently, right then. My hand went self-consciously to my hip.
What would your mark be, if you had one?
“I’m in,” I said. “I’ll… I’ll see about whether maybe I can stay in town.”
Kellydell laughed aloud, something I’d never heard her do before. She had an amazing laugh—high and smug and devil-may-care. “That’s all it takes?”
But her exclamation was lost in the cloud of encouragements and affirmations that followed it. “All right!” cried Skelter, pumping her leg. “That’s more like it,” said the man in the diner clothes. “That’s what I figured,” said the black lady.
Uncle Clyde passed a clipboard to me. “Glad to have you on board, Pepper. You can put your info down here. Now, folks, can we get back to hammering out the platform? This is supposed to be a business meeting!”
They got back to it quickly enough, and just like that, my time in the sun was done. Regardless, I felt like I was glowing the whole time. I sat quietly for most of it, occasionally jumping into the conversation, and found myself wishing that Peach were there. Or at least that she had a phone so I could text her how I felt. When the official business was done, I answered more questions about my trip and our relationship. I told Clyde and Rover about the interspecies couple I’d met at the Millennium—maybe they’d want to join the Friends? No, I didn’t have their numbers, but maybe someone should work that crowd on pony night, pass out a few leaflets. Weirdly enough, a middle-aged blond woman even asked if I could help her set up her own blog the way I’d helped Peach, as if I were some sort of expert. And I listened to a dozen fascinating conversations.
Of course this sort of thing had to be happening. It’d been happening ever since Justin Trudeau had given that first press conference and the world had exploded, ever since pictures of Celestia and Cadance on Parliament Hill had been released and the experts had said they weren’t photoshopped. There’d been a panic at the time, a beautiful, charged panic, but I hadn’t been part of it. Now, almost two years later, the panic had faded to a steady boil, but it was still definitely hot. Two worlds had collided and there was still plenty to work out—there would be for decades to come, no doubt.
I spent two hours in the middle of that boil that Thursday, and it felt just right. I didn’t get a cutie mark that day, of course, but if I somehow had, it wouldn’t have come as a complete surprise.
I said as much to George Harrison while conversation continued to bubble around us. He lifted his apple-red eyebrows, impressed. “Is that so? And just what do you suppose it’d be?”
I blushed. “Not quite sure. Something to do with ponies.”
Beside him, Skelter grinned a brilliant, little-toothed grin. “No one has a pony for a cutie mark! It’s not allowed!”
I gave her a sly look. “Maybe humans would be allowed to?”
“Suppose it wouldn’t be completely off-kilter,” George said. “We ponyfolk don’t wear ourselves on our rumps because it’s taken for granted we’ll be dealing with other ponies. But for a human chap to work with ponies… well, that’s reasonably special.”
He said it in a way that make me feel warm. “Thanks, George.”
Skelter chuckled nervously. “Well, I’m hoping you don’t have to leave town. I thought you were a good villain for our game!”
“Well, it was fun.” I looked between them. “Are you two a couple now?” Honestly, she seemed way too young and silly for him, but maybe he had a type.
George gave a frank nod. “We’re making a go of it. Honestly, Sergeant? I’m in much the same boat you are.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, as you know, I’m a traveler by nature. Lately I’ve been a bit antsy, as though I’ve been in the Big Apple long enough. It’s the wanderlust, you know. It gets at you.”
“Oh… where are you thinking of going?”
He shrugged. “Anyplace that catches my fancy. Australia, maybe. South Africa. Tibet. Who knows, Sergeant? I don’t let myself think too long about anyplace, or I’m liable to up and go.”
“Is there some reason you can’t?”
He sighed and swished his sizable tail, encompassing the room. “There’s work to be done here. You feel it—I do too. I can’t pull up roots just yet.”
Skelter nuzzled him on the chin. “Maybe we could take a vacation, though! I’d love to go somewhere with you.”
“And we will, honeydew. Keep watching the bargain fares—we’ll go away for a week or so.” George faced me seriously. “Be honest with me, Ronald. Have you got someplace better to go?”
I shook my head. “I’m just scared. I can’t afford to live here anymore, and I gave up my lease…”
“Well, if it comes to it, you can lodge with me a while,” George offered. “It’s a tiny place, but every inch is decorated impeccably.”
I found myself laughing, then covered my mouth. “I guess you’re not mad at me, then?”
“Mad? Why, what would I be mad for? Not dropping me a line when you were snogging Peach? You didn’t ask to be glamored by the Princess of Love.”
I felt a surging guilt in my gut. “I feel like I haven’t really treated you well.”
His ears went up. “You haven’t? Well, if that means new and better treatment from Sergeant Pepper, I’m all for it. Didn’t know there was a next higher grade!”
I chuckled. “You’re not mad at Peach, either?”
He grew serious, giving his girlfriend just a glance. “I’ll admit there was a day or two I felt like giving her down the banks. I felt tossed aside. It’s not the first time I’ve felt that way, but… it was the most surprising.”
“But it was a spell,” Skelter reminded him.
“Right, and when I found out what’d happened, I forgave her, no hesitation. Honestly, I feel a bit bad for her.” He turned to Skelter and gave her a gentle, silent kiss. “She missed out on what she could’ve had.”
I was tempted to ask if it was necessarily too late. But of course, I couldn’t ask with his fillyfriend right there, so I just promised to pass along his well-wishes to Peach when I saw her.
We talked a bit longer. I wanted to make plans to see George again, but since I still wasn’t sure if I’d be going back to Trenton, I couldn’t commit to anything. Instead, in a playful mood, I asked Skelter about her domino cutie mark. Was it about destiny? One event toppling inexorably into another and another?
“Not as far as I know!” she said. “It’s just about the way one mistake leads to another until you slow down, look at the big picture, and stop whatever dumb thing you’re doing.”
That was a message I could drink to, even if I was drinking coffee.
At last, the ponies dispersed and so did my fellow humans, the other Friends of Equestria. Meg took a moment before slipping away to touch my shoulder and say, “I hope you stay.” Just that.
On my way out of Turtlewood Coffee, I took a moment to slow down, look at the big picture, and theoretically stop whatever dumb thing I was doing. This took the form of a deep breath.
That’s when I happened to spy the sign in the window that I’d missed on the way in. HELP WANTED.
I took another deep breath.
[Posted: 7/27/18 by Peach]
I’ve got too much to say, so I’m just going to let it out a little bit at a time, as if I’m a balloon and someone’s unpinching my nozzle for just a second at once. I went back and visited my family this week. My dad’s got a new magic trick. I broke up with Pepper, or technically he broke up with me. It turns out I was under the influence for my last few posts and they were all done by someone who called herself New Peach, and she’s gone now. But she’s not totally gone. Because the other thing it turns out is that everyone is both New and Old, and whenever you leave a version of yourself behind, there’s always a piece you keep.
Shout-out to Clear Airways, my best friend since foalhood, for spreading the word! Princess Cadance likes chard and spinach pies. She also has a weird thing for kumquats. I’m still in love with Pepper. We’re moving out of our crazy small apartment and getting a new apartment that’s bigger and actually has a bedroom. He gets the bedroom because he’s the one who likes privacy more. He found my old ant farm and asked me if I really used to keep ants. I told him yeah, I did. He asked me why. I said it was ‘cause I liked the idea of a little world I could see all of, a world I could understand all at once.
While I was visiting my house back in Witherton, I wasn’t sure whether it was still home or whether I should think of this place on Earth as home, now. Pepper said I should write a poem to figure it out, so here one is:
Poem of the Day: How to tell where your home is
When rain soaks your coat
And one voice after another tells you what you don’t want to hear,
And there’s snarls in your tail
And the streets only bend in ways you don’t want to go,
When things don’t make sense
And falsehoods are presented as simple facts of life,
When your heart cries out
And a score of people tell you you’re wrong,
Then,
Wherever you’re desperate to go so you can take off your clothes and relax,
Dry your hair
Drink and eat a little
And rest on something soft,
That’s home.
And if you have someone to talk with and be with a little,
Someone you love,
Then it’s home, sweet home.
- - - - -
Well, I guess that’s it, then.
Earth is my home now, at least for a while. Poetry doesn’t lie.
I never would have believed that a person’s home could change so fast.
545 COMMENTS
[Posted: 7/27/18 by Peach]
I believe that someday we’ll find another world and that Earth will just be a story in its storybooks.
I want to go there.
294 COMMENTS
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Something is really weird about this story. This is the second update I almost missed because it just won't show up on my tracking list anymore.
I feel conflicted with this story.
I went in fully expecting a nice PonyXHuman relationship, full of some trials and tribulations but a hopeful happy ending.
That didn't happen. I feel sad about that. I'm still a little mad that the main character can look into the face of Peach and say he wouldn't try to get over his own xenophobia just to be with her.
As interesting as the drama was in this whole story, the reason I even started reading was for the romance. While that didn't exactly happen, I still enjoyed this fic. However, I would probably stop reading here if it wasn't for the fact that there's only one more chapter after this to read, because of the fact that the relationship that basically was blown to bits.
I shall read the final chapter, but I can honestly say that this story has me feeling really neutral.
Drama is really fun to read, but I came for the romance tag doing its duty.
Damn, even at the very end, this is still laying on the feels. I think this is my favorite romance on the site now.
You know, part of me was expecting Ronald to get a job for Equestria's embassy or someting as a sort of human consultant. The way ponies seem to get their qualifications, a guy with actual experience in living with a pony or in Equestria, he could've been an asset, more so since he wan't to help the relationship beetween the two worlds...
There is something funny about the idea of Justin Trudeau being the first earth's official to meet magical creature from legend...
the more I think about this story I am getting a feeling a mistake was made.
I feel braking up Peach and Pepper totally was the wrong thing personally my feeling's if any thing I would have went with a reset back to before the spell and let them grow from there.
but that is me and I am not the author.
7489329 You too? The only reason I saw this chapter, and the last, was because i found it on my feed. The unread chapters list in my favorite story library haven't been listing this story when it updates
I kinda expected this to be like most romance movies, where they have a break up near the end, and then realize their mistake at the last second at the airport. I still hope it will end like that, because outside their relationship there isn't much else in the story that's interesting.
7491766
Ditto. I was checking my favorites list for something else when I realized a chapter update had happened. Blah!
Toast?