Pony Addiction

For a week after my release from holding I sequestered myself in the zoo while my body mended.

I buried the memories of that dream as deep as I could.

Long days of nothing happened. The discomfort from my ribs and later a growing haze of stir craziness made it impossible to focus on the books for more then a few minutes at a time.

I accomplished nothing. I only waited impatiently for something to happen. To my disappointment nothing did.

Soon I started making trips out into the city to a local coffee shop. The trips were uneventful for the most part.

* * *

One day a rosy pink pony stood in my path. Just sat there looking at me. Waiting.

I gave her a friendly nod and walked by.

* * *

The next day a rosy pink pony stood in my path. Just sat there looking at me. Waiting.

I gave her a friendly nod.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I returned stopping.

“You wanna come with me?”

I stood there like an idiot.

“Gloves on?” She offered, like it wasn't her first choice.

“I'm John.”

“I'm Tulip.”

I followed her dutifully like a lost lamb to her place. It was a cozy little top floor suit over the flower shop she probably ran.

I always made a fuss when I found out somepony was a self-employed business owner. It was very common here but the staggering economic mobility of ponies always surprised me.

We sat in her apartment, talking about her business, while the cascade slowly filled the room and we fell in love. I excused myself and left.

* * *

The next day Tulip stood in my path. Just sat there looking at me. Waiting.

We exchanged friendly nods and I followed her home.

I couldn't tell her about my adult life. I didn't want her to think less of me.
I told her about my childhood, about living on a family farm and working in the fields.

The still air very quickly filled with the smell of each other till we fell in love. I excused myself and left.

* * *

The next day I spent twenty minutes searching for Tulip before I found her.

We exchanged friendly nods and I followed her home.

She asked if I wouldn't mind her bringing along a friend for our next visit.

I told her I supposed it was okay.

We sat in her apartment staring at each other till we fell in love. I excused myself and left.

* * *

The next day I spent over an hour searching for Tulip before I found her.

“I can't have you over today, sorry,” she apologized.

“I suppose you could have other things to do.” I nodded, somewhat surprised at how needy I was being. “I'll catch you next time.”

“Still okay if I bring a friend, next time?”

“Sure.” I said, relieved that there would be a next time.

And with that we parted ways.

Feeling lonely I took the long way back to the zoo.

“Hi again,” said a stealthy pink unicorn, with her head under my gloved hand.

I laughed. “You actually remember me?” My fingers stroked her ears reflexively.

“Sure, I was your first. Wasn't I?”

“Yeah, you were.”

“I thought so,” she caught my glove in her teeth and started to pull it off.

“I'm kinda trying to keep those on,” I complained catching the cuff.

“Well, you aren't wearing those things around me,” She struggled stretching the glove out in an impromptu game of tug of war.

“Oh, come on, be nice!” I grinned.

“I'm trying to be nice!”

“Hold on-”

“Fine!” She spat out the glove and walked away.

Wait... come back... please? The words died on my tongue as I silently watched her go.

I straightened the glove. Then I took them both off and put them in my pocket. Then I put them back on.

I wandered pointlessly for a few hours till curfew. I actually caught myself looking for that sneaky unicorn a few times.

It was a Murphy's Law kind of thing. They never find you when you really need them to.

* * *

At dinner I found myself seated next to a woman.

“It can become a habit, those gloves.” I started.

She said nothing and kept eating.

“I don't think I've ever seen someone using with a fork while wearing gloves.” It was strange and strange things have to picked at. Unexpected mysteries had to blundered into.

She took off her glove and showed me her bare hand.

Hoof rot wasn't properly an STD you see. It was a fungal infection that required prolonged physical contact and sweat. You could technically get it wrestling. But then you could probably get crabs that way too.

But humans don't have hooves to catch the rot, I hear you say. Humans do however have finger nails.

This woman on the contrary did not. Her fingertips were dark, swollen and oozing, her nails had long since fallen away.

She put her glove back on.

“You seeing a doctor about that?” I leaned back rapidly loosing interest in my meal.

She shot me a look that suggested I was insane.

* * *

Tulip stood in my path today. Without word or gesture we fell into step and I followed her to place that was not her home.

A more impoverished single floor home.

She gestured to the sofa. I sat.

“My friend's name is Feather Step,” She told me. “I want you to think of her as a friend. Like I am.”

“I'd be happy to,” I replied. I wanted another pony to hang out with when Tulip was otherwise engaged. It would make things much less lonely.

“She's late,” I saw her glance at the door impatiently.

“How did you meet her? This Feather Step?”

She blushed a little. “She's actually the one that got me into humans in the first place.”

“Oh,” I said, I could taste that there was a juicy story here.

“Yeah, she kinda brought one over. It was just so incredible.”

“It is isn't it?” I laughed.

“They went... ah...” She began awkwardly.

The door opened and a familiar stealthy pink unicorn stepped inside.

Feather Step took a long hard, almost hate filled, look at me.

“Gloves. Off.”

Tulip just blushed harder and tried to hide her expectant smile.

I really should have expected this.