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"So what's it like being a macro?" the reporter asked with excitement. No doubt she was thinking about the ratings this interview would get and not really considering how vague the question she had just asked was. But that was okay. Fiasco was used to this kind of carelessness. The little ponies could get away with it. She couldn't. She always had to put the well-being of others first, but maybe this interview would change that.

"It's full of daily challenges," Fiasco said with a dramatic sigh. "The trouble starts as soon as I head to work."

"And how does a pony as big as you get to work? I can't imagine you take the bus." Was that a joke? Fiasco wasn't sure if that was meant to be funny or insulting. She shrugged it off for now.

"No, there is no transportation large enough for me. One of my hooves by itself is bigger than any car. So I have to walk anywhere I want to go."

"No wonder you're in such good shape," the blonde little earth mare complimented. Fiasco suspected she fulfilled the old stereotype about blonds. Her charisma was... lacking, to put it gently.

"The distance isn't really the problem," Fiasco explained patiently. "I'm about five times the size of you normal ponies, so in a way the world is only a fifth the size to me. A trip that would take you 20 minutes takes me about four, for example. Even less if there are obstacles you'd have to navigate around that my longer legs can simply step over."

"Seems like an advantage. I wouldn't mind cutting my commute to work short." The reporter pouted.

"Except I have to deal with my own obstacles. It's hard to get around the city because I have to wait for ALL the traffic to clear before I can use a street. And don't even get me started on how narrow some of the roads are. You have no idea how embarrassing it is when I have to slip between two buildings and my... flanks... brush against the glass on either side." Fiasco blushed at the thought.

"Oh my. Being so big must give you a very different perspective of the city."

"You're telling me," Fiasco grumbled and rolled her eyes. "I'm just glad I have a normal job. Well... as normal as I could hope for."

"What do you do for a living Miss Fiasco?"

"Construction. I move materials around the site and aid in building. Most ponies will be familiar with me from the big renovation project downtown. A lot of demolition and construction going on down there needs heavy lifting and a mare like me is pretty useful."

"They have you knocking down buildings?!" the reporter gasped. Uh oh, damage control mode.

"Nope," Fiasco shook her head, projecting a calm atmosphere as best she could. "Too dangerous. My boss is afraid of flying debris. I just move the rubble after the demolition is done."

The reporter breathed a sigh of relief. "Then you must do the work of an entire team by yourself. You must be rich."

"Sort of," Fiasco cringed. "I make a lot more than your average pony, but I also spend a lot more. Do you have any idea what my grocery budget is like? And don't even get me started on rent. Or the regular fines I have to pay for the... accidents that happen whenever I go to work."

"Accidents?" the reporter froze up.

"At least once a week, sometimes twice, I step on... something," Fiasco explained nervously. "I've broken lamp posts, carts, benches. I even cracked the pavement a few times."

"What about... ponies?"

Fiasco licked her lips. This wasn't going in a good direction. Should she lie or tell the truth? She really wanted to lie for this question, but would it come back to bite her if she did?

Being a macro in a tiny world was hard.

Author's Note

I intended for this to be more of a silly story, something that makes you laugh, but it turned out a bit more serious than I planned. Oh well. The name of the hero, Fiasco, is simply a synonym for "disaster" which thesaurus.com spit out for me. I admit that I immediately fell in love with the name. It really rolls off the tongue and works so well for a big mare just trying to live her life without hurting anyone. Hope you enjoyed!