Sometimes It’s Difficult to Locate the Assets
The car pulls up to the curb just outside the entrance to the park. The driver gets out and opens my door so I don’t have to struggle with the handle. I get out, thank him for the ride, and as he drives away, I get out my phone and give him five stars. He played the radio too loud the entire trip, but he was nice and he had to do this early on a Saturday morning.
I almost always give the drivers five stars. The only time I ever gave a driver four stars was when he rolled through all three stop signs on the way to my house.
I’m here for my shift today with L.A. Sanitation. Today, we’re working at an event for people who need to get rid of old chemicals and machines cluttering up their homes. They drive their unwanted stuff to us, we unload and sort it, and then it goes off to facilities where it can be disposed of without hurting the planet.
I’ve lived in this world for over nine Earth months now, and I don’t think I’ll ever understand humans. Why would they make so many things like boat paint and chlorine bleach and antifreeze that can ruin the environment? Why would they put lead inside their machines, then just throw those machines away into big piles and let it eventually seep into the ground? Even when we do these pickup events, my coworkers say that the machines and chemicals we collect are just a small fraction of what the humans throw away. Why wouldn’t everyhuman do the responsible thing?
Ever since I took this job, I feel like this world makes less and less sense. Sometimes we’re assigned to clean up areas where humans who have no permanent homes set up tents so they have someplace to live. At first, I didn’t understand why the city would get in the way of the humans who just want to be nomads, but then I saw what those humans were doing to those spaces. Garbage just scattered around, attracting rats. Dangerous, used items thrown on the ground, waiting to hurt someone. One of my coworkers explained that it wasn’t fair that the homeless humans got to live for free in the city, not paying any taxes, while the ones who played by the rules had to pay for us to come and clean up their mess.
And while some of the humans wanted to be homeless, you could tell that some of them were there because they had some kind of mental problem and needed help. But I was told that we weren’t there to help them – it was likely that some of them had been offered help and they refused it, or they got help but relapsed to where they are now. We were only there to clean.
I mean, sure, Equestria has wealthy ponies and ponies who don’t have much, but the difference is so much greater here. Some humans have so little, it all fits into a tent and shopping cart; some humans have so much, they’re driving cars full of used machines to us because it’s easier to buy new machines than get the old ones repaired. It doesn’t make sense.
If it had been up to me, I never would have moved to Earth. I had a nice accounting job in Monterein that suited me well. I could have spent the rest of my career doing that and been content.
But my wife’s special talent is orthopedics. And while humans have orthopedic surgeons, none of them can magically mend broken bones without making a single incision.
It was either spend most of her time sitting around the hospital, treating one or two minor cases per day, or move to Earth where she could make a real difference. I couldn’t get in the way of her special talent.
Too bad my special talent means nothing here. If you want to be an accountant on Earth, you have to have a degree from one of their colleges. Never mind that that this is what I’m meant to do – my cutie mark even represents a balance sheet, with an equal number of bits on either side! Without that degree, no one will hire me. I couldn’t even find a job as an assistant in order to work my way up. Assistants don’t need a degree, but they do need to know how to use specific computer programs. And no one wants to hire me and pay to train me, too.
We can easily live in Los Angeles on only her salary, but I can’t just sit around the house all day. Eventually, I’ll probably learn those computer programs so I can get a job at an accounting firm. Even if they’ll never let me be an actual certified public accountant without a degree.
In the meantime, one thing that all ponies are better than humans at doing is moving heavy things. In Equestria, I’m one of the weakest stallions I know, but here, I’m the strongest member of any team I’m on. I could have gotten work at a factory or a moving company or something like that, but if I’m going to do something that doesn’t really fit me, at least I can feel like I’m making a difference.
Which is how I got this job helping keep the city clean. I’ve been doing it since June – a couple of months after I went through the depression of learning that I couldn’t even get accounting work during the busy tax-preparation season. The sanitation department calls me off and on when they have work nearby that I’d be good at. It isn’t safe for me to pick up waste with my teeth and although I’m good at using brooms and rakes, because a human has to handle the dustpan, I don’t get assigned to help sweep up the homeless areas much anymore. So it isn’t a full-time job, but that’s not a bad thing – for me, it’s a good balance of staying home to keep the house running for Tibby and going out and making money and giving me something to do.
I’ve arrived at today’s event a little early, so I check out the park. One of the many things about Los Angeles that took some getting used to is how so much of it is covered by concrete. Our house has a small lawn, but it’s still nice to feel the dirt and grass under my hooves. Even if the grass hasn’t been getting enough water.
I want to gallop a lap or two around the park, but it’s already a little bit warm. Considering how hot it’s going to get and how much physical labor I’ll be doing today, I’d better not wear myself out early.
So I wander over to where I’ll be working, in the parking lot next to the park. It’s about time to start setting up, so I help by rolling out the plastic sheets that will cover the ground. Then I help pull the orange cones off the dolly and put them into place to show the drivers where to go. Other workers are setting up canopies and the boxes and pallets that we need to keep everything organized.
Once everything is set up, it’s time for us to put on our Tyvek suits – we each wear a white, loose-fitting, full-body garment that’s designed to protect us from any chemicals that might accidentally get on us. Since I’m only lifting machines, it isn’t really necessary, but better safe than sorry. Although as proof of how unlikely it is, none of us have to wear anything over our faces. The humans have to wear protective gloves and footwear, and I have to wear four protective boots.
A couple cars arrive early, but we make them wait until the official starting time of 9:00 before letting them in. Before the cars get to us, they have to talk to some high school volunteers. First, the volunteers check to see whether the cars are even allowed to come in – only residents of certain places are allowed to drop off their things here. I don’t understand why we would say no if somebody has a machine that they want to responsibly get rid of, but if they don’t pay taxes to this county, we’re not allowed to help them.
Then the volunteers ask whether each car has sharp objects in it. Things like needles have to go to a separate area to be thrown away because we don’t want anybody to accidentally get pricked by something that might be contaminated.
Finally, each car makes it to the area where I’m stationed. The driver unlocks their trunk or back door – human cars are designed so they can do this without leaving the driver’s seat – and we take out everything in the back.
Some cars only have one or two things; some are stuffed as full as possible. We have enough workers that we can usually unload two cars at a time. Because I can’t easily reach into the cars like the humans can, I just hang around until they get to one of the heavier machines – say, a microwave or an older, boxy television with a glass screen – and then one of the humans puts it on my back so I can carry it to the appropriate pile.
We have sections for each type of machine – the flat televisions go in one spot, the small kitchen devices go in another spot, and so on. Some of the machines, like microwaves and computers, stack easily by themselves on the pallets. Others, like printers and vacuum cleaners, have to be dumped into boxes on the pallets because otherwise they’d fall all over the place.
There are also barrels for small items like light bulbs and batteries, as well as places for chemicals like paint and cleaning fluids. But I’m almost never in those areas – when my coworkers pick up those lighter items, they put them on carts so they don’t have to balance a bunch of little things in their arms. I can easily push the carts, but so can the humans.
I’m always the only pony at these events – I’ve never even seen another pony come through the line. By this point, I’ve worked with most of my coworkers before, and we all get along fine. Once every so often, a human who clearly hasn’t had much interaction with ponies yet will need help with something heavy, so they’ll whistle for me like I’m their pet dog. Then I have to gently tell them that they can call for me by my name like they would any of their other coworkers.
One human – his name is Luis – has worked with me at a few different jobs now. He’s always looking out for me. One time, when a human tried to call me over by saying “Here boy,” Luis confronted him immediately, demanding that he show me the same respect he’d show any other person. I had to be the one to calm Luis down.
It does get frustrating, being treated like an animal every now and then, but I have to be the bigger pony and keep the peace. Some of the humans don’t want us on Earth at all – I don’t need to give them any actual reasons to hate us.
By 10:30, it’s already getting hot – my Tyvek suit may be white, but it still acts like an insulator for my body heat. The weatherpeople knew it was going to be really hot today, so we have a big dispenser filled with cold water that all of us visit regularly. I’ve also got a couple of bottles of Gatorade waiting in my bags so I have a way to replace my electrolytes.
A lot of the humans are wearing hats to keep the sun off their faces. I wish I had thought of that, but I didn’t bring one and human hats don’t fit me.
Cars are coming to the event at a pretty steady rate, so we’re always moving. On rare occasion, someone will try to drop off a really big machine, like a stove. We have to tell them that we can’t take anything that large, and then they get angry. Probably because they went to the trouble of loading the machine into their car in the first place. I feel bad, but it isn’t our fault that they didn’t read the list correctly before coming here.
A couple of cars try to bring us old tires, which we also don’t accept. One of my coworkers said that once, someone wanted them to take a worn-out recliner. That doesn’t even make sense to try to bring to an event that says it’s for hazardous household waste.
Nothing out of the ordinary happens during the morning. By the time I get to take my lunch break, the heat is getting really bad. They say that humans have been around for thousands of years – just like ponies – but I can’t understand how they’ve managed to accomplish so much without conquering something as basic as the weather. Plenty of pegasi whose talents are weather control have immigrated here, but right now, they’re all working to eliminate hurricanes and typhoons before they move on to temperature regulation.
I try not to think about that, though. Even among the humans who are okay with ponies coming to Earth, some of them only want the ponies who can help with Earth problems. And once they found out that earth ponies aren’t miracle workers – nopony can make non-native crops grow in the desert – humans seem to care more about pegasi and unicorns. It makes me miss Equestria, where I know we’re all equal.
As soon as my lunch break begins, I take off my suit. There’s no breeze, so the sweat isn’t evaporating away, but I still feel a little better. I want to dump cold water all over myself, but that’s for drinking only.
The Gatorade tastes really good.
As I eat, Luis checks up on me to make sure I’m doing okay. Everyone is reapplying sunscreen, and I’m sure to do the same.
During the second half of the day, the heat is wearing all of us down. I’m sure we’re not unloading cars quite as quickly as we were this morning, and every movement takes a little extra effort. I try to spend as much time as I can under the canopies, even though it isn’t much cooler there. I also have to remember not to touch any of the stacks of machines with my muzzle, because after spending hours exposed directly to the sun, the metal and plastic are extremely hot.
There are rarely any breaks in the procession of cars, and all of the stacks and piles of collected materials are quickly growing. If this is just a fraction of what the humans get rid of, I don’t even want to imagine how much is being thrown away irresponsibly.
I receive my final 15-minute break during the last 15 minutes of collection. I had specifically requested that scheduling because once the collection is over, I don’t have to keep my suit on – having my break now allows me to take it off 15 minutes early. This is the only situation where I envy the humans and their hairless skin.
Los Angeles is one of the most populated cities in the country – why would they put such a large city in such a hot place?
At 3:00, the volunteers have to start turning cars away because we need time to pack everything up. The first time I worked at one of these events, I thought I’d have to help lift the stacks of machines and boxes filled with chemicals, but it turned out that that’s what the pallets are for – one of the humans just operates a forklift to load everything into the trucks. Instead, I help put away the orange cones.
With so many of us helping, it doesn’t take long to turn the space into a parking lot again. As we wrap up, I mention that I’m not looking forward to ordering a ride back to my house – I’m all sweaty and no matter how much I apologize, it’s going to hurt my passenger rating. Luis offers to take me in his car, even though it’s out of his way. I feel bad about accepting, especially when he refuses to let me pay him. Finally, we agree that I’ll buy him a smoothie on the way back. Although that isn’t nearly fair enough.
I’m not sure which turns out to be better – drinking the smoothie or simply getting to sit inside the air-conditioned Jamba Juice. He’s really interested in all the ways Equestria is different than Earth, so most of our conversation is me telling him about home.
He seems a little surprised when he pulls up to my house. As he lets me out of the car, I thank him repeatedly for the ride and ask him again if I can give him some money, but he still says no.
Even though I’m feeling better after the smoothie, the first thing I do when I get inside is take a cool shower. Tibby isn’t scheduled to get off work for another couple of hours, so after the shower, I take a little time to relax and read the newspaper. Newspapers here are a lot thicker than the ones in Monterein.
I also have to figure out what to do about dinner. After the day I had, the last thing I want to do is turn on the oven and heat the whole kitchen, so I think I’ll just make some spaghetti. Once it gets closer to the time Tibby will be back, I start to prepare the salad while a couple of slices of garlic bread cook in the toaster oven. The sheer number of different machines the humans have invented may be overwhelming, but I have to admit, this little oven is really convenient.
When there are just a couple of minutes left to go on the bread, Tibby comes in – I greet her in the living room with a kiss on the cheek. Then, as I start to boil the water for the spaghetti, she tells me how her day went.
Because her specialty is bone health, most of her patients are elderly, so she has to deal with a fair number of older humans who don’t trust a unicorn doctor. Although they change their tune once they see what she can do for them.
She had one patient today who was especially patronizing to her. As she tells me how he kept trying to pet her mane while asking her when the doctor would arrive – apparently he thought she was some kind of nurse/therapy dog – I step over to nuzzle her and try to make her feel better.
But then she tells me about an emergency that she had to attend to this afternoon. A little human girl, who had broken her forearm pretty badly, came in with two adult women. One of the adults was just as distraught as the girl. The other one, who had driven them in, was trying to keep them both calm.
When she saw them, Tibby took a deep breath and walked over, hoping that the fact she was a pony wouldn’t make the situation worse. As soon as the little girl saw her, she was too overcome with curiosity to keep crying. Tibby was able to say hello, calm the girl down, and make a pass with her magic to diagnose the problem. The distraught woman panicked when she saw the girl’s arm glow, but the other woman told her it was okay.
Then Tibby had to have the girl get an x-ray – an unnecessary step the humans make her take. She already knew where the breaks were and how to fix them, but for legal reasons, there has to be a picture on file.
The distraught woman was the girl’s mother – of course the calm woman would be the one left in the waiting room for the rest of the treatment. Before Tibby led the girl and her mother to the x-ray, that woman did her best to try to get the mother to stop panicking. Luckily, the girl was too focused on Tibby to pick up on her mother’s emotions.
After the x-ray, Tibby said that she was going to apply magic to repair the damage. The mother looked terrified, but the girl was fascinated by Tibby’s glowing horn.
Naturally, the procedure went flawlessly – after all, it’s Tibby’s specialty – and Tibby finished by applying a splint and telling the girl to leave it on for the next 24 hours. To be honest, the splint wasn’t necessary, but it makes the humans feel better. They just can’t believe that a unicorn could completely mend a broken bone so quickly.
While the mother talked to the receptionist, the little girl hugged Tibby with her good arm and said thank you. Tibby told her she was welcome, then turned to the woman who had been left behind in the waiting room and asked how she was related to them.
And that’s when she found out that the other woman didn’t know the little girl or the mother at all. She had just seen that the two of them were too scared by the girl’s broken arm to think straight, so she dropped everything she was doing so she could drive them over and make sure that everything turned out okay.
I’ll never fully understand Earth. But at least parts of it make sense.
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How can household waste be hazardous?
9856317
"EPA considers some leftover household products that can catch fire, react, or explode under certain circumstances, or that are corrosive or toxic as household hazardous waste. Products, such as paints, cleaners, oils, batteries, and pesticides can contain hazardous ingredients and require special care when you dispose of them."
(Source: Environmental Protection Agency)
Huh... I just now noticed that all these sources are saying that "HHW" stands for "household hazardous waste" (as opposed to the other way around). I guess I can see how they got there, but it still sounds wrong.
This was certainly an interesting story to read. I just have one minor complaint. The following passage:
While this is true, it's only partially correct. I've worked on a lot of modern appliances when they break down. Some are indeed harder to fix than replace, because they're designed in a way that makes disassembly quite a pain. But in other cases the replacement parts will actually cost more than the entire unit, or so much that the time and effort of fixing one will easily push the cost into the new product region. Frankly its ridiculous.
9856317
Ask any hoarder that's been buried alive when their crap falls on them.
I enjoyed this, just a casual look in the life of a pony on earth. Our brave husband might want to look into getting a fast-track degree so he can get back to accounting. There's always short educations available to get degrees to talented people out there quick.
Ooh, I like!
I've never worked at/visited a hazardous waste cleanup, either, but the details sound reasonably close. I've been to recycling centers where they unload the stuff for you, and its kinda like that.
"Tibby" is a great name for an orthopedic surgeon unicorn. Although, realistically, she might have to do a new residency to actually practice in the US...my sister-in-law, who's Canadian, did. Of course, she certainly could be under the supervision of somebody at the hospital.
Ponies would likely be confused and frustrated at some of our public transit options and ridesharing and various apps (Uber and whatnot); I'd imagine some would prefer the socialization on trains, while others would appreciate the convenience of getting picked up and dropped off wherever.
I also do find the thought on the amount of human wastefulness believable. Especially if in Equestria, manufactured goods are disproportionately expensive (which I think they are).
Also, adding to 9857024's comment, even finding repair parts for a lot of appliances is a challenge, never mind the expense. I had to replace a reflector on a microwave once (the mica sheet), and as far as I could tell, you couldn't buy one. Luckily, you could buy the sheets and cut one to fit, but that was quite a pain.
My new microwave (well, 10 years old) needs new wheels for the rotating plate, and I'm not sure I can get those anywhere...
9857948
There’s also online degrees, although IDK how much use they are in actually getting a job
But, that’s one area where EQ is definitely different “Credentials? Got them right here on my bum.”
9857024
I’ve read that if the repair costs more than about 20% of the replacement cost, you’re better off just replacing it. & Trying to get parts for an older computer....SHEESH!
9857024
9867538
Yeah, finding the proper OEM part (or even a generic clone of that part) and all that can be a pain sometimes. On the other hoof, it's amazing how often something just needs a recap kit, (or even just a couple obvious caps replaced, like the power board in my old Cyberhome CH-DVD 300.) And sometimes you just have to drill a few holes and stick generic toggle switches in a thing.
Though when all the sheetmetal tube burners (and heat tents) in my grill were completely rusted out, I discovered that it was actually *cheaper* to buy a set of 5 cast-iron replacement burners and 5 generic stainless heat tents than it was to buy a new grill (even with fewer burners), plus all those new grills seem to have the same garbage sheetmetal tube burners that I started with, and now I have *good* burners in my grill instead.
Though my lawnmower seems to get mixed reception. On the plus side, it goes basically all summer on just that little tank before I have to take the tank in for a refill at TSC off their big bulk tank ($2.39/gallon, last time I was in, so barely $3 after tax). On the downside, my brothers both refuse to mow the lawn with it, so I end up doing all the mowing. Also I never did manage to get the blade adapter off the end of the shaft (even with a pulley remover) so that I could replace the leaky oil seal down there, so I keep having to top up the oil more often than I really like. (Recently stopped buying the little bottles of overprices B&S SAE30 and just grabbed a big jug of Rotella SAE30 instead, I hear it's actually pretty good in aircooled gas engines.) But it gets the grass mowed anyways, so as long as I keep an eye on the oil level... 🤷
9857948
A good point. Right now, he's just bitter about having to pay for classes that will teach him things he already knows. But he'll eventually do it -- the call from his cutie mark will be too strong.
9867538
For the record (not that this necessarily clarifies anything), my description of what it's like to drop items off at such an event comes from firsthand experience. It's just that the most recent one I went to took place before I read your prompt to imagine ponies being out and about, so I didn't think to deliberately observe any details beyond "Hey, look at the nifty stack of microwaves." At the time, I was more concerned with getting out of there and back to where there was air conditioning. My disclaimer applies more to the experience of being outside the car.
The sign pointing cars in the correct direction really did call it a "roundup," which I found amusing.
I imagine that if we humans were ever visited by friendly aliens who were willing to live here and who could heal broken bones in about one-fiftieth the time, certain exceptions to the rules would be made.
Not addressed in this story: How the medical industry is reacting to a drastic decrease in the quantity of treatment certain patients will need. Some corporation is losing out on a lot of money in markups because of these magic ponies.
9857024
9868359
I felt bad about disposing of my ten-year-old $90 microwave when the only broken part was in the turntable (the unit still heated food, just unevenly), but yeah... it simply made more sense to buy a new $90 microwave.
Thanks for this - it was a nice good slice-of-life
9867538
I literally have microwaves by the dozens. Just ask me, you nerd.
9870690
Mine still works, though, and some of yours are likely banned by the Geneva Convention or the Nuclear Test Ban Treaty.
9868495
Your lawnmower is epic. I wouldn’t use it myself; I’ve had some bad luck with propane cylinders and try to avoid them if I can.
I had one that was kludged together with parts from many mowers, but it finally died and I just bought a new one.
I can get through most of the summer with only three or four gallons of gas, because I’m really lazy about mowing my lawn.
9868495
If you are near an airport, Aeroshell 80W or 100W is also a real good lawnmower oil. It's also 10 dollars a quart, but my oil consumption on mine went down.
I also kinda... run mine on used drain oil from airplanes, but still... you know, little things.
I also run all my small engines on sumped 100 low leaded gasoline, for that extra octane boost. Yeah baby.
9876752
I meant if you just need the little wheel thingie for the spinny-ma-bob.
9878444
Hmm, not sure on running oil that much heavier than recommended (Though I *have* heard of people putting heavy gear oil into the engine of a car they're taking to auction to quiet a failing engine long enough to sell it...)
I was under the impression that higher octane in of itself won't give more power, but it will allow higher compression to be used (which does improve performance) without blowing up the engine from preignition/predetonation. Also https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D7_rpEejTKk seems to indicate that 100LL will leave excessive deposits in a mower engine. (Plus the gasoline tank on mine completely rusted out anyways, one part of why I switched to propane...)
I have been thinking of picking up some REC90 (no ethanol!) for this thing we have that's best described as sort of like a hybrid between a huge weed-eater and a lawnmower without front wheels...
Reminds me, found this empty metal can along the curb that the label sticker on it says originally held K1, I wonder if I can rinse it out with something and use it to store gasoline in? (Labeling it appropriately, of course.)
9878900
Aeroshell 80W is actually SAE 40 weight, and 100W is 50. There's a reason why they do that, but I dunno. They're starting to use multi-viscosity oils in airplanes now, for instance Aeroshell has a 15W50 and Phillips makes a 20W50. I've not had good luck with those oils in my small engines, although my vehicles they do fine so long as the ratio of normal car oil is over that of the aviation oil.
The best stuff, if you can find it anymore (Aeroshell discontinued it this year) was W100 Plus, that had a special blend of Cam Guard so it helped with cam wear. I got a mini-horde of that stuff stock piled that's older than I am (courtesy of an old store room at work, and since the oil was "expired" we couldn't sell it.)
You're right on the gas thing. And I didn't tell the whole story. I only run the straight 100LL in my 2 strokes, with no oil, cause the lead count is enough for lubrication. My other small engines I run a blend of 100LL and the Rec Fuel you mentioned (although out by me, it's 93 octane).
About that K1 can, you can, in fact! Use water and dish soap (I always perfer Dawn), rinse it out well after cleaning it, and it should be fine. I always get a roll of red duct tape or electrical tape and wrap it around the can a few times, so it's clearly stating it a red/gas can now. You can also, if you're feeling lazy, just take quarter gallon of gasoline and rinse the can out. It's lazier, and not guaranteed to get out all the residue from Kerosene, but that small amount won't hurt anything.
In fact, once in a while, a small dollop of K1 (or Jet A since I work at a airport) in the gas is kinda good for it. It's especially good for fuel injection systems, helps clean the injectors, although for small engines that's rare.
Another fine pony on Earth story, especially all the frustration over human bureaucracy not yet adapting to ponies, to say nothing of the inscrutable headscratchers like "Why is this metropolis in the literal desert?" Thank you for it.
9856317
The really hazardous waste is stuff for household cleaning, automobile fluids, solvents of all kind, epoxy, etc. But more and more things are classified as hazardous waste all the time, even though the level of toxicity may be so low that it would be less-hazardous to bury it in your yard than to gather it all in one place. Old TV sets are now hazardous waste, as are compact fluorescent light bulbs (ironically, the same ones they made everyone buy about 10 years ago to save the environment).
Other than the use of present tense (which I'm not dissing; I like to see writers try all the POVs), this is a good simulation of how a pony who isn't a writer might describe his job. I'm not sure whether that's a good thing, or a bad thing. You've edited the sentences more than Jay Random Non-writer usually would, which is probably a good choice; I think complete realism would be tough on the reader. On the other hand, the text has no dramatic structure, which is realistic, but makes it a slow read. I guess you made a good trade-off between realistic and readable. The concept restricts the story to a limited readership--basically those with anthropological interest in ponies and humans. (Like FanOfMostEverything.) I don't mean that as a criticism. Fiction can do many things. This is a worthwhile thing to do, but will never be a hit.
I've now read 2 of your stories, but still don't have much of an idea of your range as a writer, because they were both intentionally written in the voice of a non-writer. But that in itself shows that you experiment with different voices, which is something mediocre writers seldom do.
9878444
You better hope the stallion who wrote this doesn't read your spoilertext.
11616394
Yeah, this was very much written in the style of an Admiral Biscuit day-in-the-life story where the stakes are low to nonexistent and it's just interesting to watch someone go about their day.
Fair warning, though, that my general voice as an author leans more toward a straightforward, almost clinical, "get to the point" style with little vivid imagery and metaphor -- perhaps slightly more complex than the narrator of this story, but not as much as you might expect. I recognize that that isn't what a lot of people are looking for in their fiction, but I also know that I'm no Charles Dickens.