This morning was not her best. The sun had awoken her as it shined through the crack in the drapes above her bed. She sat down in her green plush recliner to drink her morning coffee, only to have the chair roll back too far, causing her to spill it all over herself. Her last clean towel was to be used on cleaning up the mess. Worst of all she was out of toothpaste.
These things could happen to anypony and they would just shrug it off, but tomorrow had become today. She had put it off once more and knew it was coming this day. Her simple struggles always seemed to be not-so-simple to her. A thought she had wondered if other ponies have had.
She argued with herself that tomorrow could mean at any time during the day. That it didn’t have to be right at its beginning. She chose to procrastinate just a bit longer. Her daily routine seemed easy enough to follow in order for time to pass.
Her plants needed watering, her hair needed brushing. One of the wheels needed to be fixed again. The curtain needed to be mended, and door needed its hinges oiled. Taking down the rope in the middle of her ceiling wasn’t on the agenda for today. That could be a job for another day, although she knew it wouldn’t be.
The amount of chores she had were always low in general, as not much could be done in a cart made for one. The easiest thing to start with was brushing her hair. After this morning she did not want to see the sun again, but had no choice if she wanted to see herself in the mirror. The shutters to the window squeaked as they pushed open, another thing to add to her list.
Brushing her light blue mane was the second most painful thing she did every single day. It was mostly because she had not used a new brush in many years, unable to afford some of the essentials had become a common problem. Most of her money went towards food or fixing her caravan.
Once she finished removing the knots she continued on with her other duties she had made in her head. She brought over a small watering pail to one of the two remaining plants she owned. She watered the small short stocks of potted bamboo first, they seemed to be thriving well in the corner near the door. The single potted white daisy next to her bed had started to lose its petals and wilt.
Staring deep into the plant caused her to start tearing up. Streaks of tears ran down her cheeks as she began to pour water on its dirt. She continued to pour more and more water until the pot was filled, mud floating on top of the surface. Another petal fell from the daisy. She sat down the watering pail next to her hooves, the tears had stopped.
A long sigh came from the blue pony as she rubbed her eyes clear from her tears. Continuing on with her chores was the only thing she could do to stop herself from crawling back into the bed in front of her. She grabbed the sewing kit from underneath her bed and walked over to the curtain. It had suffered weather damage from being left out during a night previous.
She searched through the kit for a needle and thread. The threads color had to match the curtain but this morning was proving to be difficult. She was of course, out of the matching blue thread. The hole in the fabric was not large enough to be noticeable unless pointed out, something she hoped wouldn’t happen today. In the back of her mind she knew it probably would be, knowing her luck.
Closing the sewing kit she placed it back underneath her bed. Once again she wished she could crawl under the star patterned blanket and drift off to dreamland. She looked back up at the rope in the middle of the ceiling. She could use her magic to bring it down at any time, but she could still put it off till tomorrow.
The wheel seemed like the most important and hardest task of the day. Of course knowing that - she decided to put it off by grabbing the grease from a cabinet underneath the window with the wooden shutters. She placed the grease onto its counter and opened it up. Spreading the goo on the hinges of the shutters did not take long, as neither did spreading it on the door to the outside world.
One of the few chores of the day that had not gone wrong in some form or fashion was finished. She went to put the lid back onto the can, but instead caused it to spill out onto the wooden floor. Spoke too soon, she thought with a roll of her eyes. She grabbed the towel that still held coffee and quickly soaked up the grease. This spill was relatively tame, and did not burn her. As she finished up her cleaning and placing the grease back into the cabinet, she only had one more chore to finish.
She threw the towel onto the bed only to realize a second later that it had grease and coffee all over it. Lifting it up revealed a big wet stain on the blanket that had immediately soaked through to the sheets. Even if she wanted to now, she couldn’t even go back to bed.
Anger inside had started to build as she pulled up the covers and threw them into a corner. Tears once again rolled down her cheeks. Another chore added to her list, but the wheel was more important.
There was no point in doing anything else if she couldn’t even move her stall. She grabbed a hammer and some nails and opened the door to the quiet dirt road her cart sat off. Her cart had been held up on three wheels and some stones during the night, as she couldn’t be bothered to fix the wheel yesterday.
The broken wheel had already been removed and thrown into the woods due to frustration on the previous day. After taking the spare wheel off the outside of her door, she quickly hammered in the nails and removed the stones. Surprisingly, the cart didn’t crack or break afterwards. She wiped the sweat off her brow and headed back inside the stall.
The first thing she saw after entering was the rope hanging from the ceiling. She closed the door behind her and placed away the hammer, only to receive a knock a few moments later. Opening it revealed a light brown pony with a hat and two saddled bags on his back. He reached into one of the bags and pulled out a letter addressed to the blue mare.
She thanked him for the letter and he went on with his business, although she was unsure how the post-pony had managed to even find her roaming caravan. It didn’t matter, she rarely received mail anyways, so receiving a letter came as something of a surprise to her.
It was so surprisingly she opened the letter carefully to make sure it was not a trap. After she realized there were no tricks, she read the single hoofwritten page.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Dear Trixie the Great and Powerful Magician,
I really enjoyed your show! So much so I decided to become a magician too! I even got my cutie mark the other days after putting on a magic show for my family!
Please come back and visit us soon. I’d like to become your apprentice if you’d allow me! My parents even okayed it already.
Sincerely,
Your Biggest and Powerful Fan
~.~.~.~.~.~.~
The letter had started to become wet from the drops of tears that flowed down her cheeks. She gave a little smile and placed it back in the envelope. She walked over and then placed it under her pillow. After rubbing her eyes she began to chuckle to herself, feeling stupid for crying in the first place. She put her wizard cap on her head and tied the cape around her neck.
Opening the door she gave one last look before she left for the day to do some shopping.
The rope still dangled down from the ceiling of the caravan, the same rope that had been there for a few weeks. It still remained tied in the fashion of a noose, just as it had been since the day she placed it there.
She told herself yesterday that she would use it today, just like she had said every day prior.
Perhaps tomorrow…
