Lawn-Pygmy

All around me are women. Old women, young women, fat women, short women, all kinds of women. All of them are smiling and chatting, mostly about nothing in particular, though some of them are discussing interesting events from the morning. They worry the few bits of gossip like hungry dogs. We’re all sitting on little vinyl chairs with wooden armrests, or standing, since there aren’t enough chairs. There’s punch, and everyone has a cup of it, or the off-brand soda that’s supposed to taste like the real thing but never does. Food smells clog the air, fogging up from the hearty, stick-to-your-ribs food everyone brings to

Water dripped from the old man’s coat, drumming against the floor in the steady, ominous rhythm of a gallows march. His steps fell in time with the drops, carrying the tired frame of the man toward the crumbling battleground where he was to meet his fate. One leathery, weather-battered hand, the knuckles too big for their slender fingers, rested on the hilt of his weapon, which he kept slung loosely in a belt loop. “So this is where I’m to end it then?” the old man wondered aloud as he passed row after row of empty, dimly lit booths. He paused by one of them and laid his hand on the smooth wood of the backrest. &ldqu

        A rifle shot caromed off a rock with a hissing crack. “Joseph Butler, you son of a bitch! I can smell ya down there! Get on out here!” Another rifle shot echoed through the dry riverbed, sending lizards scampering in all directions. A tall, spare man in black pressed his back flat against the bullet-riddled sandstone with a revolver in both hands, his head turned back to snatch frantic glimpses over the top of his boulder at the gunman across the riverbed from him. A third shot took his bowler hat from his head and sent it spinning to the parched ground. Cursing, he ducked into a crouch behind the rock. “Your diplo

“Douglas, sweetie, I am sorry… I am. But I can’t accept this.” Caterina’s slender hand closed over the little velvet box held out to her and gently pushed it away. “I would love to, honestly I would. But there are… circumstances that er, prevent me from saying yes.” Her fingers twined around the short, blunt hand of the short, blunt man across from her. “I’m sorry…” Doug’s heavy brows squashed together as he stared across the table. “I don’t understand, Cat. Circumstances?” He slouched in his chair, all sausage limbs and thick face that looked

 The afternoon rush was dying down, most of the customers having already paid for their meals and departed, many returning to their jobs, a few heading home to begin preparing meals for their soon to return families. The wait staff was busy clearing tables and resetting them for evening service. While the air around them crackled with activity, the atmosphere was lost on the two mares sitting across from each other in a small booth in the corner, their cups of tea barely touched. "Carrot, you are so lucky. Did you know that?" Thick purple hair shifted and tugged at the loose bun it had been styled into as the cream-colored mare to which it

 "Yes, your majesty," Twilight said woodenly to the figure in front of her. It sounded strained and forced even to her; hardly worthy of the attempt. She attempted a bow to soften her tone, but it felt stiff and jerky. She was blowing it. Maybe if she did it over, she'd be forgiven for such an unworthy display. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Yes. Your Majesty?" She shook her head and chewed the inside of her cheek. Why couldn't she say it? "Yes, you are…? Majesty! AUGH. Why can't I get this stupid line right?" Twilight glared at the little pile of papers sitting on the stool beside her and briefly entertained the idea of se

The following is a transcription-via-spell from questioning sessions involving the individuals responsible for the events taking place at Mayor Mare's residence and the Heavenly Hooves Day Spa. Ms. JELLY DONUT is the recorder (and ardent admirer of our boys in blue), and all actions are taken from her own observations as well as those of fellow policeponies. Police dialogue was added later during the compilation of these reports to give a more complete view of events of that night. All swear words have been edited out to spare our wonderful Princess' sensitive eyes from vulgar police dialogue. [BEGIN RECORDING] *click* [RECORDER'S NOTE: Se

Dear Journal, "That don't sound right…" Dear Diary, "No, that's even worse." Hey Book.              I'm a bit dusty and dirty right now, so you'll have to forgive me if I drop you in the tub water. Shouldn't be a problem, since I've got you on a desk I use to balance my sums, but I apologize in advance either way. This is your first sight of the world I reckon, so I'm gonna tell you where you came from. Pinkie Pie gave you to me as a birthday present a few days back, told me it was 'something I needed', just like that. She even showed me hers so I could get a feel for wha

               Rarity hummed tunelessly to herself as she hung her damp towel on the rack to dry and rearranged her toiletries on the bathroom's counter. "That was just what you needed, darling. Dear Lotus and Aloe, lovely as their hooves are, can't stand up to a bath with 'The Scoltish Laird'. A night with Primrose is what you need to truly unwind." She grinned and fondly patted the lovingly worn book she'd set on the edge of the tub. "I've not laughed like that since I found poor Scootaloo's little 'shrine'." A pang of guilt tugged at her, which she waved off dismiss

Excerpt from the diary of Princess Celestia, dated 1 January, 1001 CR. Twilight Sparkle, if you are reading this, it is because the worst has happened. I will have turned into a monster worse than any other. I am going to have to ask something terrible of you. Something terrible, but ultimately necessary if Equestria is to survive me. Before I do that, please know that I love you.More than any other of my students, you have touched me, kept me together in these trying years. And now I must explain what will have happened. I am not a god, and never have been, nor claimed to be. I am an Immortal; a mortal being elevated in the Dawn Times