• Member Since 4th May, 2013
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On the Sliding Scale Of Cynicism Vs. Idealism, I like to think of myself as being idyllically cynical. (Patreon, Ko-Fi.)


This story is a sequel to A Confederacy Of Dunce Caps

He's supposed to go on. There's a foal to care for, employees constitute another level of responsibility... in theory, he has so many reasons just to get up on the morning after her death. And the next, and the next, until he meets the lost in the shadowlands once again. When his part of the contract comes due, and he can finally feel whole again.

But he can't seem to remember having gotten up. Going to work. There's snippets, but... just that. Because if he pays attention, he has to live, and living means he has to remember, and if he remembers...

Mr. Rich knows he's supposed to go on alone. He just doesn't know how.

(Part of the Triptych Continuum, which has its own TVTropes page and FIMFiction group. (New members and trope edits welcome.) This story takes place years before the one linked, and no knowledge of the other is required for reading.)

Now with author Patreon and Ko-Fi pages.

Chapters (1)
Comments ( 35 )

May she rest in peace.

Been following about your Mom for awhile. Said some stupid stuff right after she died...If you need someone to talk with I've been told I'm a good listener. I hope writing this helped you.

I don't know what to say. I don't think there's anything that can be said, but again: if there's anything any of us can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask. You're a kind and wonderful person.

As for the story itself... it hurt, and saying "it hurt in all the best ways possible!" just feels like it's trivializing the real-world experiences that went into this. But no matter how much you fretted over it while writing and editing, it's far from being one of your worst works. I think you used dramatic irony wonderfully, and you did a great job conveying Mr. Rich's feelings. The cameo from Applejack's dad... we can definitely see where she gets some of her best traits from. And speaking of dramatic irony, that conversation just made me so sad...

I hope one day you also get to the point where it becomes just an ache.

Lost both of mine within three months of each other. Dad after six months of suffering, Mom after years of it... If you need someone to talk to, or vent to, or just scream at, I'm available.

Added to The Triptych Continuum Rebooted "Prepilot" file

Devastatingly effective. That you were able to slip in clever bits like why Mr. Rich believed Diamond for so long is frankly astonishing given what fueled this story. Thank you for this. Here's hoping it helped vent some of the pain.

I wish I had the right words to respond to this, but all the ones I can think of are ones you've heard to the point where hearing them must frustrate you to no end.

All of your work is so beautifully personal; obviously, this was more intense than usual but the amount of care that goes into your work is touching no matter how grueling the circumstance.

Rest in peace to your mother. :ajsleepy:
Thank you for writing this. It's a beautiful piece of art. The way you illustrated his mental states through showing what he was and wasn't able to focus on, was really well done. It all flowed together really well. I enjoyed reading it very much. But I'm sorry for the circumstances that enabled its creation. I hope you rest and recover too. Take some time for yourself, if you can.

I know that ache. It does fade, with time and help. And this story was the beginning for you. And for me, too.

Blessed be.

This is a beautiful, personal work. Thank you for sharing it with us. My deepest condolences, Estee.

It's been three years since my mother has passed. It still hurts.

Said it before. "Having both parents die is an inevitable step on the journey to old age.

Welcome to the club.
Membership sucks."

Been almost a decade now since I lost my mom and it hurts still at times

Well. I'm crying now. This is so powerful...

... and so incredibly personal. Thank you for letting us share your grief.

I hope that someday, we can share your joy.


"the same way his hooves was scrabbling faster"
"the same way his hooves were scrabbling faster"?

Well that hurt. And was beautiful. And... thanks. And I hope it helped you.
I'm not being very good with the words right now.

This is especially poignant given to what happened to Bright Mac.

It is one thing going into a story knowing it will be painful, it is another to be gut punched from an angle you never had expected. And I mean this with the outmost compliment and appreciation.

The kitchen scene was both heart-wrenching and cathartic and I loved it so much, same with the sick-leave, and everything with the flower clock .

damn. that was every bit as hard to read as i though it was going to be, but worth it. :fluttercry: thank you for sharing this with us

Her favorite gardening magazine needed to have its subscription renewed. He silently placed a copy of the death certificate in the reply envelope, then sealed it and set the results onto the outbound pile. The hospital had told the government, and couriers had notified her parents, but solicitations were effectively forever until stopped.

this reminds me of a fantasy novel, "magic kingdom for sale-sold!" by Terry Brooks. (best known for his "Shanarra" books)
it starts with the protagonist reading a "wishlist catalogue" addressed to his wife, who died THREE years ago...

"She changed her name, you know."

reminds me of one story where her original name was..."spoiled MILK"!
i think that was "it's a screwed up life", where Screwball was DT's sister.

Bold choice to make Filthy Rich into a sympathetic character, and especially his wife Spoiled, considering the treatment the show gives them. However, you still pull it off.

Sorry about your mum.

That was a well-written portrait of sorrow.

10635182 Filthy wasn't a bad character. Just that later seasons changed his characterization because all rich characters must be evil.

There aren't enough words to say what needs to be said, Estee. I won't insult you by trying. I'll only raise a drink to those gone, and hope that your pain soon fades.

This story, though? A beautiful tribute to loss and pain, and the challenge of making ourselves push past it. Recognizing that sometimes we can't do that alone. That we won't always get it right the first time. But that we must, because if we don't do something then the alternative is doing nothing, and we can't do that. Those who we've lost wouldn't want it. And even if every step hurts... we must keep going.

You turned your pain into something tragic but beautiful. Thank you.

It's always an ache. Eventually, it's a scar and not an open wound, but it'll always twinge when something plucks the heartstrings. That's OK.

Never forget what made it hurt so much to lose. That's the only sin in surviving a wife, a parent, a friend.

That was the actual show. (Whoever downvoted you is the real moron, for simply doing a drive-by instead of clearing up your ignorance)

Both my parents have passed now. With time the ache does grow less, and most often these days, when something brings them to my thoughts, I smile. The good stuff shines on, the rest fades. It just takes time.

I wondered if anyone else would notice that. Coming straight from the previous story, that was the main thing my brain latched onto in a desperate attempt to escape the soul-crushing sadness.

when I read the description part, I assumed it was Filthy who was dead and thus a ghost/zombie. who didnt really know they were dead,

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