RoMS' Extravaganza

by RoMS

Jan. 2020 - East Of The Barn

“Anypony ever asked what was wrong with you?”

“Many.”

“And what did you say?” She marked a pause. “I asked you a question!”

“Eeyup.”

Big Macintosh’s foreleg tinged at the seam of the deep cut the workday had dealt him. Wherever scabs hadn’t congealed, the zenith’s rays had left reddened, battered barren skin. Meanwhile, the sun, one of today’s culprits, had already fled to the horizon over the hill. Only remained the second wrongdoer, the discarded mower and its rusty blades between two apple trees somewhere in the acre far behind her and him.

Her… He turned his head, his neck cranky with soreness and fatigue against the yolk that weighed his shoulder blades. A glimpse of a filly trotted a couple of strides behind, kicking rocks away as if to defend herself and clean a path through the dirt that deeply matted her light pink coat.

Diamond Tiara.