• Member Since 13th May, 2012
  • offline last seen Last Thursday


The sexiest man you've ever met.


In a nearly empty library, a librarian tears pages out of books and tosses them out an open window.

Twilight studies in the same library, alone.

They exchange words and a dance.

Chapters (1)
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Comments ( 20 )

Man, all your followers must be asleep today.


Pretty grim. Your writing is beautiful – it fits the tone of the piece perfectly.

Holy moly, this is what Wing Lock became? You sure added a hell of a hook!

There's one point where the book burning feels like it doesn't mesh with the rest of the story, where that text should have been edited to take into account her actions:

Gale thought that it might have been a kind of tragedy to be a librarian and see so many books not being read.

And you're missing a word in "On the behind Gale hung an old clock," but otherwise the change here is pretty dramatically for the positive. Lines like the ignored vs. unnoticed distinction and the ordinary kind of mystery are still great. The destruction of art, though, really ties it all together. It's 100% what this story needed.

Gale asked her once why she burned all of her paintings if they had been created to bestow permanence upon the impermanent.

Her grandmother had told her she burned them because she couldn’t remember painting them, and so she had failed.

Great stuff. This goes right the heck into the favorites.

I wrote a review of this story; it can be found here.

Oh, man. I just re-read that opening paragraph again after finishing the story. There's so much meaning there that's hidden from the reader upon a first reading.

Weak wings, forgetting, destruction of books for no apparent reason, feeling cold, murdering her grand dam by arson et cetera. Gale will be fine.

Right in the feels bro :raritydespair:

I am very glad I found motivation to read this - your prose is as stunning as always.

So I was oddly unaffected by this. Huh. I don't think that I get it.

What the hell did I just read and why do I feel like it was despair jesus christ the sickness unto death.

Wow. This is great. Please don't take it away unless you know you're re-using it elsewhere. I sorta reviewed it here.

Maybe Twilight, and not Gale, was the tragedy-in-the-making, the pegasus with a desk job, the actress who couldn’t remember her lines, the librarian who tore pages out of books.

I think you meant

Maybe Twilight was the tragedy-in-the-making, and not Gale, the pegasus with a desk job, the actress who couldn’t remember her lines, the librarian who tore pages out of books.

I really don't think Twilight's studying... well, new things. Gale kept Twi's books on the table instead of putting them somewhere to be sorted out. When could she have reached her peak? Is the peak of he learning abilities being repeated every day, but degrading with each iteration?

The self imposed, yet almost unrealized isolation worsened conditions, making them slowly fade away. That's what I found to be the most saddening. The obliviousness to a condition that couldn't be helped, caused by a fracturing of the mind.

Just thumbed this up after Bad Horse’s recommendation.

Not sure why I bothered. All these comments are going away.

It will be cold for a very long time.

This is kinda horrifying. I guess it's supposed to be. Wow, though. Well written

How meta and for our times! I'm here reading whatever catches my flitting interests in my dark apartment as the pre-semester parties rage on, outside and alive.

I'm wondering if knowledge and achievement would ever make me happy or if the drunk frat boys, ever-screaming down the street, have more of a clue – or if happiness, or at least the desire for a short term kick, itself is worth chasing. Maybe both the frat boys and I are wrong. Working towards more fulfilling, long-term goals is the closest I'll get to content. But for the frat boys, I can't say.

It's been said that all you need to be happy is good books, good conscience and good company. Thanks to this site and those like you, I only need to work on the latter two.

Regardless, this hit home, and I'll be thinking about it on and off for a bit. Thank you :heart:

I read this because it was in your list of things you'd probably remove if you finished an "original" version of it, and because it was on my read later list already. This story presents pretty pervasive ponification, and while I can certainly see it without, I'm not sure why it was in this category, given the importance of wings and pony tribes to the action of the story, but that's neither here nor there.

The subtle way this story foreshadows itself is very cool. The theme is present from the first sentence, and carries itself through to the end without missing a beat. Memories ebb and flow throughout, and the story follows Gale's train of thought very closely. Having read a few of your stories, I think the thing that stands out to me most about your writing style is how often and how well you convey the narrative of your stories through the hyper-biased mindset of the focus character. I feel like this is the primary strength of Spring is Dumb and it's also present here, in Where Have the Stars Gone, and in a subtler way, in Her Blood. I also can't help associating your fascination with writing stories of fading or broken memories with the idea that you have some personal experience in this area. As silly as it feels to propose internet hugs, if this is true, I do. *hugs*

It's hard to say whether the use of Twilight Sparkle is a net gain or not. While she works as a great pre-loader for our idea of a studious bookworm character, she is perhaps not entirely congruent with the role she plays in the story. We know that in the future she does in fact get out more, and Gale's suspicion that she has the early stages of Wing Lock is, given the benefit of this foresight, is rather suspect.

Gale's grandmother sounds like she really bought into the whole "love, a positive attitude, and regular wing exercises" thing that Gale finds herself so angry at. What with her laugh, and her painting. (probably as a pegasus, this means wing exercise) I feel like the advice is more about having something good in your life, rather than prolonging it. What good is the latter without the former, after all.

It's 4:43 am. I am still trying to fall asleep. I've been idly prodding my phone screen for the past three hours, looking for something that would oust the thoughts out of my head.

This story didn't do that; it might've even pushed those thoughts further into the limelight. Gale's essentially over the breaking point: it seems she understands that she has already lost, and is bitter over it. I hope I am still in Twilight's position, but I am not so sure. Even though overall I would say the story is rather depressing, Gale's small act of defiance was just that tiny glimmer of hope I needed.

Thank you.

Well, I'm sad now.

Well done, not many writers can evoke that in me.

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