MINIFIC MAYHEM

She tossed and turned. Nopony would blame her for having trouble sleeping with her odd schedule, but she’d never had a problem with it. A blanket of silence clung to every surface of the room as though the walls themselves were enchanted to keep noise out. For all she knew, that was the case. It didn’t matter. For weeks now, she’d had problems.

No matter how thick the curtains or quiet the hall, something would find a way to keep her awake: thinking of something insignificant, like trying to remember what she’d eaten, or feeling guilt over something petty, like a bout of jealousy over her sister’s good fortune. She didn’t want to worry anypony over such silliness, and so nopony realized anything was wrong.

But the lack of rest was beginning to take its toll on her.  She felt out of sorts and became quicker to anger than she’d like.  She even suffered some minor hallucinations that she shook off and ignored, but they were nothing more than her mind playing inkblots with shadows.

Still, sleep always eventually found her.  What was different today?  She rose to her hooves.  A light snack wouldn’t hurt.  She informed her guard of her intent and trotted down the hall.  She trotted past a window and shielded her bleary eyes from the fierce afternoon sun.  She could swear she heard the night itself calling to her.