• Member Since 28th Aug, 2011
  • offline last seen 6 hours ago

Cold in Gardez

Stories about ponies are stories about people.


Pegasi prefer to sleep in the clouds, unbothered by the sweltering heat of summer. But if you have a cottage on the ground, you open your windows and hope for a breeze.

Fluttershy isn't getting a breeze tonight.

A Slice of Life entry in Bicylette's "A Thousand Words" contest.

Dedicated to everyone who who's had one of those nights, and hasn't been able to get to sleep.

Chapters (1)
Comments ( 14 )

Oh, too many nights like this. Glad to see a new story from you here- you’ve got some of my favorites on the site.

Some circuit deep in the pegasus lobe of her brain knew the sun would rise in precisely five hours and fourteen minutes.

Some days, Celestia did it just a few seconds early or late to mess with everypony.

In any case, exquisitely crafted scene capturing the oppressiveness in both the weather and Fluttershy's dark thoughts. Thank goodness for the sun chasing away both the physical and mental gloom... even if it won't help with the heat. Thank you for this, and best of luck in the judging.

Nice to see you again, Cold. You're always a sight for sore eyes.

A tremendously atmospheric little vignette. Always good to see more horsewords from you!

You perfectly conveyed the oppressiveness of a summer night and how it’s intrusiveness on Fluttershy’s rest. I always enjoy your vibrant descriptions of both the environment a character is and of their mood. Great to see another fantastic story from you!

Well, that does answer a question: if Celestia has that built-in innate clock of a Pegasus, that explains how she knows it's time to raise the sun. (In my old headcanon, Ponies invented accurate clocks, not to measure the length of time periods determined by astronomical phenomena, but to inform those astronomical phenomena how long they should take.)


Felt a bit weird writing a pure, deliberate Slice of Life story, but I have other ideas for the comedy entry. Not even sure if I'll enter this one or write another, but either way it was fun to stretch those pony-writing muscles again. Should be several more coming in the next few days!

Not far south enough to get serious southern funk, but we do still get armpit days.

That was a delightful read. Intimate character moments captured in elegant prose like this are, I think, the slice of life genre at its best.

I love it. It's so simplistic and nice.

Never trust how you feel about your life after 9pm.

few things are more terrifying then the passage of time, looking back and thinking it all to be for naught.

A night of flutter-slumber pondering :heart:

The quietest times of night, when all the world is laid to rest, is when the mind can delve into introspection. The conscious mind, and all of its facades and defenses, is asleep, and it's the subconscious, innermost feelings that are laid bare. This is the closest time in your life that you'll come to personal epiphany. If these feelings are not acted upon in the waking world, then nothing in your life will ever change.

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