Night time. Moon Dancer sits on a bench, wondering why anypony doesn't notice her. After a while, she decides to go home with a bottle of wine. There, she reads a book while slowly sipping the wine. Her mind starts to wander in the land of daydreaming and foalhood memories. She cries. What happens when alcohol gets combined with saddening tears?

Note: this fiction is a translation of the original, Czech version I wrote around a month ago. Any critique/comments appreciated.