The Dead Don't Sleep

by phlamingsoul

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life
Length: 1054

A pony goes for a walk at night, contemplating what led him to that moment.

A pony goes for a walk at night, contemplating what led him to that moment.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-05-24 00:35:01 UTC

They Walk 'Til They Find Peace

I trot through the empty streets, my eyes cast to the gravel at my hooves.

The moon hangs high and bright, Luna's stars shining brilliantly with nary a cloud to hide them. But alas, I stick to the shadows, as it is too bright in the light.

I pass a house like any other, and take the time to pause. From the window, I hear laughter; I hear ponies doing pony things, and being happy doing so. I return my eyes to the gravel, and continue.

A cat crosses my path, it's blue eyes asking me why I was alone. I have not a sufficient answer to please it, so we went our separate ways.

After a short time, the trunk of a small tree fills my vision. I halt any forward motion, and wait, standing in what little shade the tree provides.

I remember.

I remember a pony, with whom I found a way through the light.

I remember a friend who would laugh with me as we danced and sung songs of nothing, finding joy in simply existing.

I remember lounging on a couch, enjoying each other's presence. It was us, together, for better or for worse.

I remember us coming to a park, and planting a tree, a symbol of our eternal friendship, and all that came with it.

Eventually, things changed.

The light grew too bright, and we retreated to our home, but we did so together.

We lost our voices, and singing became painful; and yet, we still had each other.

The couch grew hard and cold, but we kept each other warm through the night.

We would no longer come to the park, for the grass was dry and sharp, but our tree stayed green and true.

Oh, how green was our tree. It grew taller than the largest house, its boughs providing shade and fun to those who came to it. It's bark, a rich white that glowed with the purity of our hearts.

The cold would come, and the tree would shudder in pain, but it would return with a vengeance come spring.

Until the day it didn't.

The day I no longer had you to guide me through the light.

To keep my silence company.

To keep my heart from feeling cold.

And with you, our tree died.

And now, this lonely night, I find myself embracing the you I knew.

The Light.

The Laughter.

The Warmth.

The Life.

Were other poor souls to walk by, they would find me embracing the husk of a tree, with tears in my eyes, and sobs coming from my lungs.

They may pause in their individual walks, and come to sit by me.

They may wrap me in their forelegs, embracing me in such a way to show how much one can care.

They may get me back on my hooves, and smile to me.

And I just may smile back.

We may walk together, as if we'd never not known each other.

With smiles on our faces, and songs in our hearts, we would walk in the moonlight.

We would walk to a house, and walk in together as friends.

We would eat, drink, and be merry, for these cold days are not meant to be spent alone.

When we grow tired, they may let me spend the night, as it's far to cold outside to go anywhere, dear.

And we would sleep, and dream that nothing would be wrong, and it would come true.

But this night, no one wishes to join me in the cold.

For there are far better things to do than go for a walk in a moonlight.

Alone.

I find the tears slowly fading, because I have not the energy to continue.

I sit there awkwardly, wishing that things may have been different.

That the light didn't cast a shadow over your face.

That you would have been as happy as you sounded.

That the warmth you gave me didn't leave you feeling cold.

That our tree could have lived as long as all the others.

I wish that I could be with you, forever and always.

And so, shivering, I lay down next to that tree.

The moonlight cannot reach me.

I make no attempt to speak.

The coldness sinks into my veins.

And, at last, I am happy.

For we are together again.

For better or for worse.

I awake to light and warmth.

There is no coldness in my body.

I look to the sky, and squint at the sun that peers through the trees.

My ears flick at the sound of laughter, and I turn to see what I might.

Foals playing in the Princess's sunlight.

Mares gossiping on picnic blankets, conversation interrupted with bouts of laughter.

Stallions walking on the gravel roads, bantering about one topic or another.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I pushed my body into an upright position.

And, step after cautious step, I moved into the light.

I allowed a smile to cross my lips, for my steps to become light and carefree.

I trotted to the mares, and we talked of a cat who had gone missing, and oh how she hopes her darling makes it home safely.

I skipped to the stallions, and happily discussed whether brie or cheddar went better with crackers.

I danced with the children, and let a song fill my heart.

And at one point, I turned back to that tree.

Underneath, I saw a pony, who sat in the shade.

And so I walked to that pony, who could not contain the tears, and embraced that pony.

And I helped that pony up, so that we might walk together in the light.

We laugh, and talk as old friends.

I led that pony to the mares, and we talked of how one mare thinks she might know where that missing cat is, and oh my gosh whatever would I do without you thank you so much I'll be back soon.

And I led that pony to the stallions, and we contemplated on whether or not fish were sentient.

And lastly, I took the pony to dance with the children, so that that pony might feel happiness to.

Because sometimes, a pony shouldn't be left alone in the shade.