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                     End of the world                      
                     -by Kerbonstein-                      
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        When the sun sets there will be no audience        
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When the sun sets there will be no audience
Two lone shadows are cast upon the once yellow sands of hellions beach, so named after the great explorer some hellion, who had made the comical mistake of setting sail to lands great and far only to accidentally turn on himself and dock a mere 120.3km away from the point he began.such stories might make you laugh, but no, on this day you would weep knowing that stories are never to be spread amongst young foals.
Flint quietly pondered these facts, but no tears were shed, if he could he would but any fluid that might be left in his dehydrated body they must be preserved, to keep one of the two survivor's of the apocalypse alive, again he pondered why trivial matters would be considered at a time like this, where vital signs are not a signature of health but more so an internal clock. Flint slowly turned his head to pay heed to his companion of late, green meadows, lime green mane that she insists is the same shade of sick...flint in any case of this claim reaching his ears would instantly deny them. Flint himself had a rather simple colour scheme grey mane, dark grey coat, maroon eyes and light grey teeth (obviously)
"What...what time is it?" This garnered a raspy chuckle from the yellow coated Pegasus,"usual?"
"Yeah, the usual."cough wheeze flint didn't say it but he noted the violence of the most recent cough, he didn't say it but he noted her paling face.
"Mum always told me I'd die alongside the ones I cough cough I loved," meadow looked up wistfully at flint."she was wrong about one thing," flint noted a pause, maybe for dramatic effect, likely due to her degrading health." There's only one left to love."
This 'love' green meadows refers to is not the caring love of a mother it is not the passionate embrace of a lover nor is it the love shared between friend's, it is the connection between two ponies experiencing something terrible.
Grassy meadows quietly rest her head on the grey sand, gazing longingly at the unmoving star she used to call the sun, this was not the sun, this was a reminder of what this country...nay this planet, used to be, now the trees remain branchless, the earth fails to move and writhe under the insects influence, and not a single blade of grass is to be seen on the perpetual rolling hills. How had it have led to this flint considered, where had it all began.
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It was a sunny day in fillydelphia, and flint grindstone time had a spring in his step, he'd had just asked out the mare of his dreams (and by the look in her eyes the feeling was neutral). "Oh I'm just so happy I could...sing," so he did, the most renound sculpture and stonesmith of fillydelphia found himself dancing to a beat that was all around him yet nowhere at all, most of the residents joined in, and there were multiple verses, in other words the chances alone of them all guessing the words correctly would make a mathematician cry, but no, this was not a coincidence, this was a regular occurrence, all of the love and happiness saturated into the equestrian ohmnic field has to go somewhere, (if that somewhere isn't a changeling atleast.)
Yes, there was no doubt, this day was perfect.
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