My Little Twilight

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A Miss Cast

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I had just woken up, with a strange sensation as if someone had just been trotting over my grave. (I can’t quite place the sensation, but it is there all the same.)

The room is dark, the hour early. (Hadn’t Celestia risen the sun yet? But; there is no Moon, either...)

Still, I have the impression of seeing the stars above, as if I had been under the open sky. (Outdoors!!)

On second thought; this room is unfamiliar: how did I possibly get into this room, in the first place. (Even if I had to admit, the bed is still very comfortable.)

I can see the mate black sheet, through the crystal clear three inch thick silicone quilt. (How odd!!)

While the pillow is soft, but it is crystal clear silicone which makes it feel strange. I can barely move; it is hard to move under the pressure of the thick quilt refusing to budge.

Once I had finally managed to slip a hoof out from under the quilt, I finally manage to fold the corner up against the wall.

I slide my hind hooves out from under the quilt, only to find myself sitting on the side of the bed; pushing myself forwards, only to slide down onto the floor.

“Thud thud, thud thud..” is heard, as my hooves are hitting the floor with distinct squeaking noises.

Apparently; the Oak-Wood Parquet had been coated with crystal clear silicone. (Well, at least it is killing all the noises aside from the incessant squeaking.)

“Odd!” I ponder; “But; the wooden floor, is still giving me a sense of belonging!” I conclude.

If I am still in Ponyville, there is no need for fancy clothes, or clothes in general. (Until proven otherwise, I will still assume I am in Ponyville.. or at the very least, a community with the same general culture!) I can still explore the wardrobe later, when I have had my breakfast.

Once I had folded the corner of the quilt down, I am turning towards the door; momentarily stopped, by the odd and unfamiliar door before me.

After a moment, I tentatively lift up my right fore-hoof; gently pressing the frog of the hoof down onto the plaque, whereupon the door quietly slides up before me.

I step out of my bed room, stopping on the balcony overlooking the living room. I take a few small, tentative steps towards the railing; carefully and cautiously scanning the space around me. A moment later, I trot towards the flight of stairs leading down to the living room. My living room; this is after all my home, isn’t it? (I will assume it is, until proven otherwise.)

After I have negotiated the flight of stairs, I am finally finding myself at the ground floor, in my living room. (This isn’t exactly a Mansion; but it still feels a bit luxurious to me, all the same.)

I have a three seated cinematic sofa by one of the short walls, with a sofa table in front of it; while the other short wall is covered by a large black surface, indicating a flat-screen TV. (Or, at least; so I imagine.) No point in questioning it, right now? I am looking for the kitchen, so that I can prepare myself a meal, my breakfast.

I soon find the door to the kitchen, behind the sofa. With just a little bit of insecurity, I open the door to the kitchen; stepping right in, only for the door to slide shut behind me just as I had cleared the threshold. (I barely notice the door closing, behind me.)

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I had just placed a bowl of carrots on the table, with a bowl of assorted vegetables on the side. I have a pitcher of Orange-Juice and a pitcher of water on the table, aside from the two glasses and cutlery.

“This does look delicious..” I mumble; “and I even have Orange-Juice!” I ponder, knowing just how fancy it is. (Or, it had been; back when I was in Ponyville, in Equestria!)

“Crunch, crunch, crunch..” is heard, as I enjoy the meal I had just prepared for myself.

In delight, I do enjoy the juice I had poured in the glass. (Could I genuinely hope to have this regularly? Or, is this the welcoming gift from the town!!)

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Once I had finished my breakfast, I carry the leftovers back into the kitchen and clean up after myself. I could do nothing less, knowing I can’t expect any Pony doing this for me.

While my home is a bit unfamiliar to me, I am still expecting to go to work; all the fillies and colts are looking forwards to the next class, after all.

I’m eager to get to work; it’s the Passion I have been burning for, for so many years already. How could I neglect it now? (This is after all my Passion!!)

While I may have noticed it, but I had not paid it any mind; the star scape had been growing warmer, from the time I woke up until it had developed into a bright indoors lighting. (Not quite the heat of Celestia’s Sun outdoors, but more than enough to be comfortably bright indoors!)

My eyes had already adjusted to the bright light, at some point; while I was enjoying my breakfast.

I had trotted through the living room, as I had finished cleaning up after my breakfast; opening the door out to the cloaking room, now with considerably more confidence than when I had opened the door out of my bed room. (Maybe an hour had passed, between these to instances; but it had been more than enough, for me to build up my confidence!)

I have a shoe-rack, jacket hangers and a hat-rack; even if these are all but empty. Yes, I apparently have two sets of indoors and outdoors shoes. However; I have neither a single Jacket or a Hat. (Why would I need either?)

If it grows cold, in the late season; I can always trot over to Rarity, asking her to craft something warm for me. (We all know this!!)

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Once I had stepped out of my home; I see two lines of Peonies, lining the path out to the street. The lawn appears to be perfectly groomed, and looks great. (I know just how good it feels under-hoof, when I trot over it; even if this will be the first time, at this address.)

The path had been laid with black stone-tiles polished smooth to a high finish.

“Clip clop, clip clop, clip clop..” is heard, as I am trotting on the stone-tiles out to the street.

I had noticed, how the Peonies are matching the colour of my coat of fur. (Just one more reason; why I don’t need a jacket, right now.) I sniff the beautiful blossoms of the Peonies on my way towards the street.

I have a mailbox, painted in my colours; and it had even been decorated with my mark on the front, which I will notice as I reach the street. (Just as I will see it, when I am coming home from work!)

Beyond the fence around my garden, I can see the street; and further away, I can see the fence surrounding the cottage of my neighbours. (Well, why not; I don’t want to live in an isolated location, away from the town.)

My neighbours have Peonies, lining the path between their fences and cottages too; just as I have, naturally. (Their mailboxes clearly denoting who is living, in the respective homes.)

“Clip clop, clip clop, clip clop..” is heard, as I trot along the street. I had turned towards the Mayor’s office, in the Monumental style chosen for her residence. (Naturally; I will have to trot by her office, on my way to the school on my way to work.)

On my way to work, I trot by one cottage at the time, on my right and left respectively. I take my time, there is no point in hurrying; I had left my home, in time to get to work.

I take a moment, looking at the Mayor’s office, stopping to take in the sight; before I turn towards the school building, trotting the rest of the way to work. (I guess every Pony will be seeing me, as I am trotting on my way to work?)

As I am finally reaching the building, housing the school where I will be working; teaching all the Fillies and Colts, I momentarily stop by the door.

I lift up my right fore-hoof, extending the frog of the hoof onto the glossy black rubbery surface; gently pressing down, before the door slides up before me and I step right in. The door slides shut behind me, quietly; unnoticed, as I had cleared the threshold.

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As I am stepping into the classroom, I am faced by the blackboard covering the entire short wall. (The screen is deep, dark black; glossy, reflecting the light in the room.)

I have my desk up front, on the right side of the classroom. (Well, where else, would my desk be?) In place of the heavy wooden desk I had in the past; I have a Glass and Steel desk now. (Even if it technically is Sapphire and Iridium plated Titanium, but still.)

There is a path, in the middle, between two lines of desks for the Fillies and Colts. (Leaving the space it would have taken an extra desk, between the two desks; leaving more than enough room, for me to trot through the entire room with ease.)

The desktop holds a keyboard, permitting me to type in the text; I intend to place on the blackboard, instead of writing it onto the board, holding the icky chalk in my mouth as I write. (Naturally; I will be able to erase all the text, once I no longer intend to show it on the board; in order to leave space, for the next text, for what I need as I need to show something on the board.)

Of course; they can see the same information on their own, respective screen on their desks. (No need to face the board, while writing on the board now; just as one could read the text, directly on one’s own screen a mere foot from one’s eyes.) Why this had been arranged, I have no idea; but if it is convenient, to me; I guess: I will just sit down and enjoy it. (It isn’t deducted from my pay, and I have not paid for it.)

I am opting not to peak into the system, to see who is coming; but choose to wait and saviour the experience of seeing them, as they step into the room. (I may have expectations, based on memories of my past; but what if these foals are not showing up, and other foals enters the room?)

There are some Fillies and Colts I am looking forwards to see, just as there are others I am not particularly looking forwards to see. Yet; I will not turn any Filly or Colt away, based on these memories. (It is my job, to teach and educate each and every one entering my classroom; they deserve my best, and I intend to offer them everything I have.)

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New School: First Class

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Author’s Note: Profoundly prophetic purple prose promptly proliferating profusely!