Author's Note

Welp, time to write something entirely different. Time to throw it out there and hope that it isn't awful.

Prologue: En Route

There’s nothing quite like those first waking moments after resting. When you’re waking up, it takes a moment or two to separate any number of fantasies from the truth of the waking world. In those moments, I can bask in the warmth of my covers and feel honest hope for a thousand futile dreams.

Will I be a prince today? A wonderbolt, perhaps? A simple baker with a wife and family?

The hope only lasts for a moment or two, of course, until something shakes you back into reality. In my case, it’s the clitter-clatter of the train car sailing down the tracks. The sound probably woke me up… even though the hypnotic rhythm had lulled me to sleep in the first place.

What do you really expect, coming from a pony named Catnap?

With that thought, everything slips back into place. My hopes for a better day are banished and forgotten under the crushing weight of THE FACTS.

Here, in short, are THE FACTS:

* I am a unicorn stallion named Catnap.

* I am a sleep hygienist by trade.

* I am currently unemployed.

* I am, by most accounts, a criminal.

* I am, by most accounts, a threat to society.

* I am currently cursed.

* My “covers” are breathing.

Risking a peek at my surroundings, I see that I’m still in the same first-class train car. My briefcase and book have fallen to the floor while I slept, though neither seems too damaged. Finally, I am relieved to see that the kind old mare draped over me is the only other pony in the car. It seems that first class really does get some privacy.

The next step is a little bit tricky. If you told me a few years back that I’d be scared of waking up mares as I left them… well, I wouldn’t have been too surprised. I was a sleep hygienist, after all. Many ponies that I help haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months or years.

If you told me that I’d be escaping from cuddles, however, then I would call you crazy.

It’s a necessary precaution, unfortunately. The curse breaks whenever ponies fell asleep. While some ponies don’t mind waking up next to me after a while, the first couple of encounters risk a good deal of… hostility.

Biting…bucking… headbutts… trampling… I’ve experienced just about every form of violence that can be inflicted in sixty seconds or fewer. The worst, of course, are the screams for help. Those can make everything SO. MUCH. WORSE.

Today, though? Today is already going my way. The mare sleeps soundly as I lower her onto the cushions. I silently click my case open and magically lift my book inside, storing it with the rest of my meager possessions. Once the case snaps shut, I make my way out of the cabin with my case floating by my side. While I feel exposed, I should be safe as long as I keep moving.

Thankfully, my destination isn’t far away. I just need to reach the restroom and groom myself before I finally arrive in town. Even if I’m technically on the run, I can feel the judging glare of my parents back in Canterlot every time I consider skipping my morning routine.

I make my way through the hall at a brisk trot, running across one or two ponies but thankfully leaving them behind in moments. Continuing my rare string of good luck, the bathroom is vacant.

After locking the door behind me, I settle my briefcase on the ground and lift my forelegs to either size of the makeshift sink. Looking into the small mirror, I can see a familiar face.

Same old green coat. Same old black mane. Same old blue eyes. After the past few years, even the glowing blue freckles are starting to seem “same old”. I look fairly rested, though that’s nothing new. Even if I break my own rules at times, I’ve slept like a foal ever since that sleeping cat popped onto my flanks. What really impresses me is how well my mane-style lasted through the night. Just a brush or two and I would be good for the day.

Looking down, past my feline cutie mark, I can see that my tail is another story altogether. Giving a faint sigh, I click my case open once more and look for my brush.

Let’s see… My book… My finest suit, only lightly worn after all of this time… my reading glasses… A couple of quills and a half-full inkwell… a sad and empty bit pouch… my golden pocket watch, still in need of winding… a ledger filled with every pony that I need to pay back… aaaaaand my brush!

Taking out the brush, I start counting the brushes down my tail as I allow a bit of stress to leak out of me. Not all of the stress, of course. Some part of me, a part that I don’t very much like, is waiting for things to go wrong. Intellectually, I know that I’m just being paranoid. Even so…

*knock* *knock* *knock*

I let out a sigh of relief as I transition into crisis mode. After all of this time, the anticipation I feel in calm moments is almost worse than the actual crisis. At least I have a general plan for when ponies get too close… more than I’ve ever had for quiet moments, really.

Resting my brush by the sink, I click open my pocket watch and magically wind it. Far as I can tell, I have close to fifty seconds to get rid of the pony outside… if he doesn’t leave on his own.

“Come oooooon,” begs a distinctly female voice from outside, “Can’t you hurry up in there? I really need to gooooo.”

“This is the Stalion’s Room,” I called out, keeping my eyes on the clock. Forty seconds.

“I know. There’s a line outside of the Mare’s Room.”

“I’m not just brushing my tail in here,” I lied, “I’m going to be in here for a bit.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll just wait out here. Just… hurry.”

Thirty seconds left until things get incredibly awkward. Think, Catnap, think.

*grauuughllee*

Twenty seconds left and still nothing. I should have grabbed something to eat when I had the chance last evening. It’s hard to think on an empty… stomach…

“Listen,” I call out, “Dining car shouldn’t be in service at the moment but the restrooms should still be available. That’s you’re fastest option.”

“Really?” Ten seconds left.

“I’m positive!” I half-shout.

I can’t hear anypony walking away from the door. Then again, I didn’t hear anypony approaching it, either. All I can do is hold my breath and count down the seconds.

Three… two… one… zero

…

Silence.

…

Sweet, beautiful silence.

I can’t help but chuckle at my own apprehension. Another potential disaster defused before it could get out of hoof. I must be getting good at this.

I put away my pocket watch and resume brushing the last of the tangles out of my tail. With the brush stored away, I splash a bit of water into my face and…

…and what?

Honestly, I haven’t thought this far ahead. It’s been weeks since I was able to take care of things without getting pulled into something so… now what?

No point in reading my book here. I’m the one who wrote it, after all. I can always go back into the train cars, of course, but that would just be inviting disaster. Besides, what reason would I have to leave the security of the locked restroom?

*grauuughllee*

Oh… right. I guess that I could grab a quick bite to… No! I already snuck on board this train. I won’t rob them on top of that. Speaking of which… Removing my quill, inkwell, and ledger, I add a new line of text to the fifty-third page.

Friendship Express: 1x First Class Ticket

With a smile, I return my supplies back to the case and clicked it shut.

Good. That is one task completed. Just another couple of hours to fill and I can move on.

I take a deep yawn, exhausted and bored in equal measure. If nothing was going to happen for the next few hours, why not take a quick rest? Moving carefully, I lower my barrel to the ground, resting my head against the restroom door as my body fills the space between the sink and toilet. Not the most comfortable position, perhaps, but I can make do for a while.

Until I reach Ponyville, in any case.