The Long Lost 576th Element

"Sandwiches weren't built in a day. Well, technically most sandwiches are built in a minute or two, but every recipe has a long, rich history behind it. Know your sandwich's past, and you shall know your sandwich."

~Princess Lunchtime Luster, The Sandwich Way

And Now, Super Trampoline Presents

The Long Lost 576th Element

A My Little Pony Fanfiction

Monday

*ch-chhhh cr-chk*

On Mondays, I bake cookies.

*ch-chhhh cr-chk*

I have a morning shift, from 6am to noon. My coltfriend's a bat pony, so when I manage to align my sleep schedule with his, it ends up being more like a night shift for me.

*ch-chhhh cr-chk*

Of course, this being a rotating asteroid, if you really want to change the time you can just trot to the other side.

Or fly. That's preferable, really. Or ride a scooter. Or a taxi. Or a bus. Or take a transit car. Actually, do that. We don't have buses or taxis here. There's a lot we don't have here. But we do have a fine "light rail network". I guess once you've laid ten miles of track through an asteroid, what's another few hundred miles on the surface. Perhaps one day we shall not have to trot at all!

*ch-chhhh cr-chk*

I weep for that day.

I say as I stand on a colonized mining asteroid breathing air. I'm not a luddite, just a hypocrite. You don't need to tell me that progress is good. The colt presenting at the front of the room is doing a fine job at that. He nods at me, and I change the slide. *ch-chhhh cr-chk*

"And here, uh, you can see that while silicon exports have been going up for the past fifteen years, our, our total percentage of, um..." He glances at what I presume is an index card on the podium. "...market share--uh, Equestrian market share, that is--it has at the same time gone steadily down. That's the red line here." He points a hoof at a jagged red line. He's right, it's going down. I'm glad Erstwhile's class knows how to interpret graphs. Who knows, this kid could be the next great statistician. After all, this is Falabella--Where anything can happen!

Thank you for the snazzy aphorism, Falabella Tourist Bureau. All two of you.

The colt finishes the slide and is mid-head nodding at me when Erstwhile raises a foreleg. The colt seems surprised, as if his teacher hadn't been asking the last five students questions during their presentations. Come on, Twinkle Quartz, pattern recognition is an important part of being a statistician!

"Uh, y-yes Mr. Lee?"

"Mr. Lee," as his students call him, speaks in that patiently reassuring voice he uses about, well, all the time while he's teaching. It's a nice voice to listen to, but could stand to be about 15 percent less monotone. Great for falling asleep to, not quite so great for classroom, uh, morale? No. Uh, let's borrow some Prench and say esprit de corps. Yeah, that. What I'm saying is his voice can be a little boring at times but it's okay because he's honestly a pretty great teacher and I like hearing him talk, okay?

I'm not blushing.

As I was saying, the stallion I'm not blushing about voices his question: "So, Twinkle, what conclusion can you draw from this?"

"Uh, from what?" the kid stammers. Lack of Clarity: 1. Mr. Lee: 0

"That exports are up yet comprise less overall of F.E.S. marketshare? What does this say about silicon, well, about the silicon use?"

The colt glances at the slide again, seeking inspiration. "Um, that we, we are, uh, we're sending a lot more of the stuff to Equiis, but uh, it's not enough."

"Okay, go further. Why might that be?"

"Well, uh... Oh! Because Equestria is using more and more silicon. We're making more of it, but they're using more of it!"

Ersatz smiles, fangs poking out of that craggy muzzle, "Exactly. Carry on." The colt echoes his smile, buoyed by the approval. He's still grinning when he resumes his interrupted head nod at me. *ch-chhhh cr-chk*

It's 5:28 when Erstwhile finally trots through our apartment's front door and meekly mutters that he's home, and I know that he said he might be late, and I know that he's been helping grade final projects, and I know that he has to fly halfway across the asteroid to get here, but I'm still annoyed, because I like being annoyed and his tardiness is an easy target.

"You're late," I grouch as he slides his saddle bags limply onto the floor and staggers into the restroom to wash up, and he loves me so much that he doesn't even try to defend himself from this fact. I sit there dumbly at the table, waiting for him.

A minute later he finally flops upon a stool and for the first time today we look at each other. I'm about to tell him the dinner offerings, but he cuts me off with an unneeded apology "Yes, I know, this was supposed to be a late lunch. I'm sorry. School is crazy right now." And he says it with such a downward inflection that I can't help but feel guilty.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I snipped at you. I'm just hungry."

"You could have eaten you know. No need to wait for me."

"I know," I reply. "But I actually like eating with you, believe it or not." He smiles at this, but returns to staring at the table blankly.

"I made us a fruit salad," I say. "I figured it's hard to go wrong with that. Is... it missing something?"

"No, no, it looks lovely. I think I'm missing something." As if to cue me in, a yawn.

"Ah yes, coffee!" I bounce over to the stove and grab the coffee pot. It's not until I grab a cup from the cabinet with a wing that I realize I've got the pot in my telekinesis. I almost drop it in pleasant surprise, but manage to get both containers over to my coltfriend intact.

"Wow, you're getting better," he complements, half jokingly.

"I should hope so," I say as I sit down myself. "It's been three and a half years."

"That long, really? Time sure does fly."

"Yes it does," I answer perfunctorily. "Now let's eat. I'm hungry."

"Agreed," and with that a mango slice is speared upon his fang.