Stories of War Ponies

It all started on a cold summer afternoon. It was rather warm out today and I couldn’t be bothered with the sea. So I stepped outside to chat with my friends, or at least I called them friends. Actually I just hang out with them. I don’t like to talk about it. They don’t really say much.

Oops, sorry I fell asleep.

They don’t really talk much. As I walked through the double doors I noticed the heater was on. I stepped outside and it was too cold. I went over to a shady spot. Not that shady. This is the kind of shady spot where you see people smoking. I decide to go over there to warm up. As it is in the most direct sunlight.

As I walk over there I take a seat on the concrete, awkwardly. I just sit down on the sidewalk. I reach into my pocket to pull out my friends. One, his name is Mr. Stub. He has been through a lot these past weeks. And I have been trying to make him last. Next I pulled out Mr. Cool and peered inside his plastic case. Inside I see little to no flame left. For he has been burned.

As I touched the metal hat he wears I noticed it is cool to the touch. So I put him inside to get warm. So I sit there and look at Mr. stubby and then back to the shady. Shady has another Mr. Cool, this one is blue colored and has the words BIC on the side. A BIC lighter. I look at him and say “that hurts you know? Breathing.” That was it.