An Average Milkmare

by Heart Spirit

The Early Morning with an Uneasy Delivery

Everyday is the same; go to the doors of my paying customers and drop off their milk, that’s all this mare has to do. My payment of bits were sufficient to fund my farm to keep this going, and that’s all that mattered when you thought about it. It was a job that I found pride in, as no other pony would do it. Being the sole milkmare in Ponyville really helps business, I can tell you that.

I started today the same way I did my last, by waking up before the sight of the sun and getting my wagon prepared for today’s shipments. I grab the cartons of milk jugs with my teeth and toss them into the wagon, slowing down and becoming increasingly deliberate in my moves when the wagon is near overflowing. The several moons of using building blocks in my foalhood prove useful once again as I hear the last crate sound with a controlled clatter of glass. I quietly cheer to myself while I put on the saddle and go into town.

---

As I entered Ponyville, it was only beginning to stir with activity. The sun slowly rose in the distance and so did the ponies with their own jobs. The light was on in Sugarcube Corner, the smell of chocolate and lemon zest wafted into the road and I was near knocked down by the incredible scent. I squinted down the path and saw the Library still lit from last night. It seems Twilight is really studying for something, or she forgot to turn off those bright lights. My eyes looked at the other surrounding buildings and houses, trying to find a route that I can take to maximize efficiency during this early morning light. I stopped at my first customer of the day, Lyra Heartstrings.

Her abode is alike to the rest, a simple design with a quaint color of beige covering the outer walls with their crossed paint strokes. A house like this is so common here in the main roads of this town, they must have been all built in the same time frame. I began to imagine what this town must have looked when these houses were being planned out. I could see patches of grass being covered by building materials while long gone technology surrounded the workers. My very important thought process of Ponyville’s previous architecture projects had to be broken so I could get back to my current task; getting this delivery done. I scanned my subscription list to find Heartstrings and saw it nestled within my scribbles.

“Lyra Heartstrings, 61 Songbird Ave. III S Bottles for every seven days X 8. n1. has requested for ‘huemane’(?) milk several times, please ignore.”

I removed my saddle to get her delivery, and knocked at the door with my right hoof. Once, twice, thrice.

Lyra was usually up at these hours, being very dedicated to practicing her lyre. Before she signed up to receive my milk, I would hear serenades boom out of the open windows, with them being abruptly hushed by the cascade of several hooves stomping from the nearby neighbors. According to her, she did not understand why the ponies around her would get so mad at the playing, as it was not that loud or disrupting. The honest truth that I could not bring myself to tell Lyra, (probably because I would lose her as a customer) was that she was absolute shit with the lyre, something that Octavia told me enough times to where I had begun to tally each time she would mention her lack of skills to me. 37 since last week, was the current amount.

The sound of my careful knocks caused the door to be swung open by a pale marigold glow gripping the handle, disrupting the harmony of the various knick knacks that donned the west wall by slamming against them. There Lyra was, standing sly on her hind legs, poorly, if I would add. She leaned on this wooden chair I had never seen before with several dents on the back of it while an extremely smug grin was spelled across her face; for what reason, I didn’t want to know. Lyra fetched three bits from the kitchen counter and popped them on my open hoof. I soon realized that magic was still coming out of her horn despite there being no visible object that was being acted upon. I cocked my head to this and she immediately noticed the change in my demeanor, despite my face remaining still and deadpan. Lyra's smile grew wobbly from the river of drywall pieces that slowly dropped on her fac- wait, drywall? I looked up to confirm my suspicion and found a massive hole was in the ceiling, cracks slowly starting to arise coming from where it was created. The slow whirr of magic was still in the air, and I tried to find a reason to get out of here as soon as I could. Her lyre was nowhere to be seen, and sheets of music were spread wildly on the floor. I had to ask, it was the one thing I knew Lyra for.

“Um… where’s your lyre? I don’t see it around her-”

“It was an honest mistake, I swear! I didn’t know how light it would be!”

With those words, the lyre dropped down from the heavens, and onto the ground with an uncharismatic thud, dampened only by the several scrolls of parchment that sat where it fell. All but one of the strings were gone, and an array of dents were in it. I could only infer that she had banged up that chair with a couple of strong swings, and had thrown it up in the air during a tough practice session. I must have caught her right when this happened, and she had held it mid flight to keep this transaction as normal as possible. Like it helped.

Lyra grabbed her bottles of milk and turned around as though nothing had changed. The blush below her eyes drew a bright scarlet, and she was murmuring under breath something about buying new strings tomorrow. I couldn’t handle the situation anymore, so I wrote the receipt, left it on the nearest table I found, and dashed out of the open door for my next customer.