1001 Equestria Nights

Peaches & Oranges

With one last swish of a comb through his mane, a stallion looked himself over in the hallway mirror. He had to admit he was a fine looking pony. Maybe not handsome, but definitely worth a little attention. Tucking in his cuffs for the fifth time, Orange went over the words of the letter again.

It had arrived the other day with pearl lace tipping off the edges. The name on the front, his name, was done in red satin. And the seal on the back was a perfectly  centered wax circlet. Not a cent was spared in the making of the handcrafted invitation.

“Sunday Market, 3:00, Peaches Stand”

Nodding to his reflection, Orange left the modest mansion he had called home his whole life. A pair of servants brought an ivory carriage around front, but he waved it away, too excited to sit still any longer. He was going to run to her. With a check of his saddle bags, Orange took off through the front gates.

Down the long drive was nothing. Choosing the quicker path through the forest instead of the main rode, the love sicken stallion felt the earths’ blessing as he ran between the ancient oaks. The leaves fell without much prodding, their amber bodies in the midst of one last waltz as the earth pony galloped among them.

The forest was left behind for the farming fields. Lowering his head he put more effort to his already fastening pace. As foalhood experience had taught him, Farmers didn’t appreciate another pony using their hard worked crops as cheap shortcuts. With a cross through a strawberry patch, Orange found himself overlooking the small town his family had built. The sound of bargain shoppers and hawkers already had become strong enough be heard from the hilltops.

With a leap, he was barreling down the hill at top speed whooping a hollering like the love sick fool he was.  Clots of grass coated his legs as he slowed to a cantor, regaining a bit of posture as he skipped along. The outer streets were mostly deserted, ponies busy as the market by now. This gave Orange time to wash himself off in a fountain, re-comb his hair, and retrieve the flowers from his bags. With a short nod to his watery reflection, he skipped into the market place.

The Peach Stand was easy enough to find. It was after all the only stand with a giant Peach on top. Whistling, he sat down next to it.  Orange waited.

And he waited. At 3:30 he smiled to a couple passing by. She would come.

When 4:30 came and went he was tapping his hoof nervously, but knew she just was running a little late. Orange witnessed the beginning of a mild sunset at 5:00 He let another hour pass kicking pebbles. Then at seven he got up. Quietly he walked home, and went to bed without dinner.

Locking up her stand, Peaches was lacking the luster she had had that morning. Taking down the hoof crafted ornaments that so much love had gone into making, the tawny mare found a bouquet of flowers left by the roadside, forgotten by some careless pony. She tried her very best not to cry at the sight of the wilting roses. After all  It had been a fools wish to think he would come.