Of Mail and Wings

by Wiz Ahmad

Housekeeping

It was harder preparing dinner than I thought. I decided to go for a Southeast Asian meatless noodle stir-fry and just cook it up, but as I slid the vegetables into the hot pan, I kept looking over my shoulder at Fleetfoot. She just looked so cute and helpless, in a world in which she had no connection with, much less a complete understanding of.

As I waited for the water for the noodles to boil, I sat down by the small dining table and just stared at the living room at large, reflecting on my life and what had changed over the course of just two decades. I'd left high school, earned a physical certificate, and signed up for a aviation course in the military. My parents hadn't exactly spoiled me but many of my personal items they'd paid for. I had a job once as a postman but quit it during the winter after a bad run-in with some wicked crooks, barely escaping being considered an accomplice to a drug and home mortgage scheme they were running. Now I was running off the last of savings I'd accumulated over my whole working period.

Where would I head now? How would I support Fleetfoot, let alone myself and the big costs that Whiz kept demanding of me?

The clatter of the pot interrupted my thoughts. I raced over and pulled the lid off, then dunked in the noodles, gently stirring it to help break them apart. Fleetfoot sighed and laid her head down on one of the couch's soft pillows.

When the meal was ready, I spread some onto a large plate for Fleetfoot, and poured a good-sized portion into a bowl for myself.

"Come," I gestured from the dining table, pouring apple juice into two large glasses. "Let's eat."

Fleetfoot limped over on three legs and climbed up onto the chair. I sat across from her and we ate in silence, listening to the crickets in the backyard and the whooshes as the cars on the nearby major street zoomed by.

"Pretty delicious food!" Fleetfoot admitted, savoring every mouthful. "The juice too!"

I chuckled, realizing I hadn't told her about the fact that I didn't add meat like that type of dish usually would ask for in the recipe. "It sure is. If I can find time, I'll try to bake a cake or some muffins."

Almost instantly, her eyes lit up with excitement, and I smiled. Slowly and carefully, I helped her to the bathroom, where she washed out her mouth and face. Then we proceeded back to the living room, where she laid back down on the couch. I went upstairs and got my old blanket and draped it over her. Then I dressed up, checked a couple papers in my portfolio, and headed out the door, locking it behind me.

I hopped back into Whiz, started up the engine, and set off down the road. Previously I had considered taking another, higher-paying job, but that would take more time and effort, and it might not fit into my aviation schedule. My job as a mailman had brought in a fair amount of income, and I'd built up good experience doing it. There were a few risks, and after a while I began to lose interest in the routine – it was just boring. But the fact that I now had someone under my wing pushed me. I had to get it back. Not for me, not for Whiz, but for Fleetfoot.

I sped up to the employment office. Thankfully it was still open. I entered and recognized John, my old boss, and Samantha, my old interviewer.

"What brings you here this evening, Brian?" Samantha inquired.

"I'd like to have my old postman job back," I declared, opening up my portfolio and pulling out my revised resume.

John gave it a quick overlook, and then glanced at my (also updated) cover letter. "You've been pretty loyal to me and all, but there's been a minor influx of teenagers who've been sending in resumes like fanmail. I'll get back to you within about forty-eight hours, alright?"

"Sounds good," I replied, trying not to expose my increased worry.

I sat back in the chair while Samantha asked me a few additional questions on how I'd handled life, and where I was headed for the future. Maybe I didn't have a crush, but I liked Sam. She was a rather inquisitive, cute, and all-round friendly girl. It was always a pleasure talking with her, even if it was only about my career and job-oriented education levels.

"Thanks a lot for the interview," she said with her merry little smile.

"You're most welcome, Sam," I replied, returning the grin. I closed up my portfolio and headed for the door."

"Wait!" Samantha called, and I whipped around to attention.

"Yes?"

"Uh... would you like to... join me for dinner tomorrow?"

"Um, no thanks," I said casually, using every ounce of facial muscle power to hold back a blush. "I've got some matters at home I need to take care of."

Samantha's face hung in disappointment, but I caught sight of it before she could wipe it off. Before either one of us could say anything more, I turned back around and headed through the door, waving her goodbye through the glass door pane before running to the car.

I then drove to a nearby bank, and checked my mortgage status. 80% had been paid off already by all the due dates for installments, which showed that my payments were in good standing. I checked my balances and forwarded a small support cheque to my sister before leaving.
My final stop was a hardware store, where I bought some lubrication oil for the various hinges around the house, along with some motor oil for Whiz and a toothbrush and grooming comb for Fleetfoot. I really wanted a professional alarm system to increase security but that would have to wait another two months or so.

I returned home well after sundown to find Fleetfoot fast asleep on the couch. Tomorrow came more training exercises, but hopefully no major flying. It would be the perfect time to socialize with my new pony friend.

Author's Note:

Glad to witness first-hand that my writing skills (and speed!) are returning. Hopefully I can utilize them tomorrow when I return to writing my short story for my English high school course.

Comments

[Bronycommander]

Well, I hope he gets to know her more, it sounds like the beginning of a beautiful friendship

[Black diamond]

God luck on thas shortstory thing