He slowly trotted through the front door, having just got off work. The colt was in his adolescent teens, with a coat of jungle green, though currently it was covered by a uniform that stated “Sweet Apple Acres” on it. It had been a long, painful day as it usually was. Every joint in his body was creaking and groaning with each step he took, while his muscles cried out in throbbing agony. The life of an Applebucker was not an easy one. “Mom, I’m home.”
There was no response as usual, so he strode to the fridge opened it, pulling forth apple cider in a mason jar. He slowly sipped it and hummed softly to himself. The house was dead; silent and empty. The delicious cider hit the spot, as he contemplated what to make for dinner.
Reaching into the cupboard above the counter, he pulled out a glass jar of spiced apples. The apples had been picked last harvest and preserved in the small jar. He looked at it and smiled as he set it on the counter. Quietly, he began to stoke the old wood stove with a nearby pile of lumber. Today was a special day, after all it was Nightmare Night, a perfect time for apples. Then again when isn’t a good time for apples? He mused to himself. The smell of russet apple slices glazed in cinnamon and honey filled his nostrils as his dinner simmered. That smells wonderful.
Ladening his plate with wonderfully fragrant spiced apples, he sat down at the table and began to chew them thoughtfully. Oh man, I forgot to leave some for her. She’ll probably scold me for that later. It didn’t take long for him to clean the plate and soon he was washing it in the sink, humming softly to himself.
Glancing outside the window, he noticed the sun being lowered and smiled. Soon he would be able to tell Mom about his day, and afterwards it would be time for bed. “Early to bed, Early to rise!”
That’s what she’ll say, of course, I'll argue that I want to trot-n-treat; like always, he thought to himself as he painfully made his way up the wooden stairs to the washroom. He turned the faucets and soon a nice hot shower was streaming forth. As he stood there bathing he thought about the day and what he would tell her. I managed to buck 26 buckets worth of apples today. That’s 4 more than yesterday. I bet she’ll be proud of me this time.
He gave a small chuckle at that thought as he stepped from the shower. It was almost time. After drying off he headed to the bedroom with an idea. She can't say no if I'm already in my costume, right? Applauding his own genius silently he put on the stupid candy corn outfit he wore every year. It was ragged and frayed, but he refused to wear a different one. After all, his mom had made it for him. Once more glancing outside, he observed the moon slowly rising above the mountain horizon. It was time. Making his way back down the stairs he made sure to lock the door as he calmly trotted through it. I can hear her now. "That old costume again?"
The night was clear, and the moon was a golden hue as he began trotting up the path to the nearby hill. The trees cast spooky shadows as he paced through them. Like mom always says, "Just spooky shadows, giggle at the ghosties" He let out a laugh as he passed through the trees and continued up the path. The path wound up a large hill, that during the day boasted bright blues of blueberry bushes. At night those blues were swallowed by the shadows. With the moon's glow to guide him, however, he picked and ate a few of the berries that he and his mom had spent summer's growing. Better not take too many, she might get angry at me! He smiled wanly at the thought, as he continued up the hill while the moon shined down from above.
As he crested the hill, he smiled at what he saw and began to speak. "Hey mom, how was your day?"
Pausing in silence he listened for a moment and laughed. "My day was busy too! Aunt Applejack said I did the best I've done so far."
Another pause as he listened intently. His response was followed by a chuckle. "No I promise, I am not pestering her, like always."
Listening for a moment, he grinned. "No mom! I promise, cross my heart hope to cry, stick a cupcake in my eye; I am being absolutely truthful."
He took a moment to look out over the rise and saw the torches being lit for the annual celebration. He turned back to face her. "Hey mom I was wondering, would you mind if I went and attended Nightmare Night? I promise I won't be long."
He paused as he listened and smiled wanly. "Yes, in this tattered outfit!"
A cold wind gently blew causing him to shiver slightly as he said. "Thanks mom! After all, what's life without a party?"
His eyes began to water as he forced another smile and said. "It hasn't been the same without you mom. The music's flat and the cupcakes are so ordinary. I've missed you so much these last five years."
He turned his attention back towards the festivities happening in central ponyville. "I know, smile, smile, smile' that's what you always said. Still sometimes, what I would give to hug you again. I think, however, it's time I go out and make some friends."
He paused in silence. "I hear you. I was shocked too. I never was as social as you, and if you were here I bet you would be furious at me for being so quiet all the time. I-"
He laughed. "What's that? You're right as always mom; I should get going, a party awaits! Thanks mom!"
As he began to trot back down the path he turned slowly and gave the polished rock one last look. As he did so, the moonlight slid across it's eroded surface in which the following could be seen chiseled into it:
Pinkemena Diane Pie
Loving Mother, Crazy Party Pony
Friend to Everypony Everywhere
"Before I go, I just wanted to say goodnight mom; I love you."
