Version: 1

Gray lay on the ground, curled up with his legs tucked against his barrel. His eyes stared at seemingly nothing. The only motion to indicate he was still alive was his rhythmic breathing. Otherwise he hadn't moved in many hours.

The stallion could feel the itch creeping up the side of his neck. He had gotten very good at ignoring it. Gray blinked once slowly so his eyes didn't dry out too much. Then he went back to observing the growth of colors and shapes below his muzzle.

It was a campsite where more and more ponies were gathering.

And the itch was climbers trying to scale him.

He didn't know why the little ones did this. It made no sense. It wasn't like they were headed for his ears. He couldn't hear them if they stood right next to his eardrum with a megaphone. They knew this too and had long since given up trying to communicate with him. So why did they gather whenever he laid down?

He could only guess.

Maybe they thought of him as a living mountain and climbing him had become a kind of competition. Between his size and the fact he didn't stay in one place for more than a day, it seemed like a realistic theory to him.

When he started becoming a giant Gray had been terrified. As he grew it became harder and harder to move or speak without hurting someone. And once he was really big, he started having trouble hearing. These days, now that his growth had finally ended, he was effectively deaf. Gray hadn't heard another pony's voice in years. Nor the sound of the wind. Or... anything else for that matter.

His fears, however, had since faded.

At first he had felt terribly alone and wished desperately for company.

Now the last thing he wanted was to be around anyone else.

Wherever he went a swarm followed him. No matter how far. No matter the terrain. His fans, or stalkers, or paparazzi, or whatever they were, were determined.

At first he had been glad not to be alone. But now he knew better. Even if he had parked himself in the middle of a major city he would still be "alone". Company wasn't simply the presence of another. It was the ability to interact or have a conversation. He couldn't do either and it was torture. It was like being a super-model after their prime, desperately trying to hold on and lying to themselves.

He wasn't really alone. Not ever. But maybe it would have been better that way. Gray thought actually being alone and living the truth of his new life would be better than this sudo-isolation.

Gray was a giant stallion. Always surrounded by others. Yet he never stopped feeling alone...

Author's Note

Not sure this is as much a story, even a short one, as much as it is an artistic essay. It's based on the isolating feeling people who live in cities feel. Surrounded by other people, yet knowing and trusting none of them. Even hating them all. Sounds strange to someone like me who has never lived in a city. So I applied some of that thinking to a macro scenario. Came up with this oddity. Not sure I like it, but whatever. Story telling is about exploring ideas, good or bad.