“Berry, girl, you look like somepony drowned you in sorrow then wrung you out. Get in here.”
The plum-colored mare stepped just inside the doorway. Her mane and tail drooped in bunches as if it had been raining. The zebra mare who’d opened the door pushed it shut behind her.
Berry raised her eyes to meet Happy's. Her lips shivered, then buckled. “I, I, I've made a big mistake, Happy.”
“Anything to do with that greasy green stallion you been hanging out with?”
“...maybe.”
Happy clicked her tongue and nodded slowly. “Mmm-hmm. Well. Take a load off. I’ve got coffee on the stove.” She pointed with her muzzle towards two wicker chairs that faced each other. A white milk-crate bookshelf hunched over the chairs, looking ready to topple on them at any minute.
Berry took a seat while Happy disappeared into the kitchen. The scent rolling out of it was layered: black coffee flavored with wood smoke, all over a heady foundation of oil paint. Tall, black-framed, black-and-white partial photos of ponies taken from odd angles hung on the white stucco walls between square pine beams. The books in each crate were piled haphazardly. All their titles were in Equestrian.
Happy came back carrying a pot with wooden cups hanging from its sides, the kind earth ponies and pegasi use. “I hope you like black, ‘coz that’s what we got.”
Berry nodded thankfully and took a cup. She sipped the hot brew slowly, then set the cup down on the chair’s arm.
“I just thought,” she said, “you’re, you know about—”
Berry stopped speaking and stared at Happy's cutie mark: a lopsided white circle, drawn hastily, so that the two ends didn't quite meet.
"Mistakes?"
Berry nodded.
“Guess I do, at that. How big a mistake are we talkin’ bout?”
Berry looked down at herself. “It’s the kind that starts small, but gets bigger.”
“I think I get the picture,” Happy said. “Though I don’t see how my cutie mark is gonna help.”
“I thought maybe you…” Berry shrugged.
Happy narrowed her eyes. “Thought I’d have experience? Because I make mistakes? Girl, I am not putting you down, but this mark on my ass don’t mean I make every mistake."
Berry waved a hoof. “No, I didn’t mean that. I meant… I thought maybe your talent was…”
Happy waited.
“...fixing mistakes.” Berry smiled awkwardly, “I know, it’s silly, but I just… it was the first thing that popped into my head when I found out.”
Happy’s face was stone serious, the stripes straight around her mouth. “Oh, Berry, honey. Is that what you’re thinking about?” She set her coffee down. “Come into my workshop. I'll show you mistakes.”
The workshop smelled of turpentine. Stacks of mounted but unframed paintings leaned against one wall. There was a wooden table in one corner, covered with paint splashes of every size and color, and an empty easel against another wall, in the sunlight from the open window.
Happy hoofed through a stack of canvases, lifted one out. “This guy here.” She jabbed at the figure. “What's he feeling?"
By NarbeVoguel; lo-res version with some added background
A stallion, dressed in formal evening wear, sat at a piano, hooves up and ready to play yet lifeless and inert as clay. His eyes stared, empty.
"Not much, I'd say."
"You're right. But also wrong. He just lost his marefriend. Or maybe a chance with one. I never decided. But I wanted him sad. Does he look sad?"
Berry stepped closer to peer at the painting.
"No," Happy went on. "No, he doesn't. Look how stiff his back is, how straight he sits. I copied that from a sketch of a player at the High Tails. But sad ponies don't sit like that."
"But he is sad."
"Who's the artist here? He ain't sad. He's somewhere out beyond sad. He’s stuffed the sadness up inside him so he can keep playing happy music for the happy ponies. I was ready to paint him out and redo him, slumped forward. Then I saw what I’d got was more awful than I could plan. So I kept it. Added those flat dead eyes."
Happy rifled through the canvases and pulled out a second one. A mare of some kind—maybe a vibria or drakaina; she looked draconic—leaned forward to look at herself in a mirror. Her head was tilted appraisingly. Her eyes, reflected in the mirror, gleamed with self-satisfaction. But her half-smile had a strange twist.
”A New Top” by Noben
"Now this one."
“Are there ponies—people like that in Zebrica?”
“Wouldn’t know. Never been. So what’s she thinking?”
Berry studied this one longer before venturing, "She's pretty pleased with herself."
Happy curled one lip in a half-smile. "Pretty pleased. Not completely pleased. Look at that smile trail off. My brush slipped. Now she's thinking, I'm good, but I can do better. Instead of just a smug bitch, now she's a strong bitchy mare who's worked for what she's got. See?"
"I guess."
"Well I'm telling you. I'm a strong bitchy mare and I draw strong bitchy mares, so you best believe me."
Happy leaned the painting against the stack and looked Berry in the eye. "Now you understand what my special talent is?"
Berry shifted her weight from left, to right, to left. "It’s not fixing mistakes?"
Happy rolled her eyes. "No, honey. I know which mistakes to keep."
"Oh... Oh!"
"Now maybe this is just an artistic concept and no help to you. But that's what I know about mistakes."
Berry looked back and forth between the two paintings.
She took a deep breath. "It’s something to think about."
"Look out, world, Berry Punch is thinking!"
Berry giggled.
They looked at a few more paintings together, and Happy talked about her ideas for the ones she was planning. They went back to the front room and finished their coffee, and then Berry got up to go.
At the front door, Happy turned serious again. “Now don't strain your brain over all the whys and wherefores. Look until you think you see both sides clear, then go with your gut.”
Berry inhaled, bit her lip, and nodded.
Happy put one hoof on Berry's shoulder. “I know you got a strong bitchy mare inside you, Berry Punch.”
Berry snorted, then smiled. "Don't you forget it, Happy Mistake."
Berry walked away down the path. Happy's ears rose as she watched the angle of Berry's neck, the shifting of her hindquarters, the lift and sway of her tail. Happy hurried into her workroom, opened her sketchpad, grabbed a charcoal pencil in one hoof, and began to draw.
Author's Note
I wrote this for the April write-off. It was cramped at 750 words, and most people didn't get what it was about. It should be easier to figure out now. If you don't know what Berry's mistake was, you didn't get what it was about. Please tell me in the comments if I need to explain it better.
A lot of people didn't like the fact that it uses the word "bitchy" repeatedly. I know I'll get down-votes for that. but I think it makes Happy's personality stronger.
