Stuff That Happens

A.        A pony, in a familiar kitchen, no view outside. Features not needed or would be said. Light shines on, as if there could be different. As if there could be better. Laying on floor, features stretched out. Hunger in belly. Would get food but no how. Used to know how but forgotten. Told how but rejected. Stares at wall, close enough to touch. Does not touch. Remains still. In body but not thought, never able in thought. Infused with vitality, a tragedy.

B.        A voice, deep with charge. Asks if hungry, asks if desires sustenance. Turning head toward voice, pony is unsure how to respond. Nature of voice not clear. Certain of hunger, uncertain of action. Meant to be the death of it. Thinks on it, as tended to do, powerless in most manners. Futility familiar. But cannot refuse a debtless gift. Nothing required except affirmation, asks so. Silence. Repeats inquiry. Silence. Turns head to search, kitchen still empty. Same walls, same light, same pony. Naught else, voices affirmation.

C.        A fish, drops from above and lands within reach. Bloat and beryl, carries stench of vitality. Stares at fish. Not seeming particularly fit for food. Never seemed particularly fit, never quite enough. In spite of refusal. Worth going on? Would mean moving the body. Did ask for it anyhow. Reaches a limb.

D.        A pony, in a familiar kitchen, eating a fish. Life sustained a time longer.