Calls of a Cello's Mellow Strings

by ChaoticHarmony

Rating: everyone
Tags: Sad
Length: 149

"You'll never be good enough, Octavia Harmonium." These were her father's last words to her before she cast him from her life. But now the memories of a past life, her life of rigourous training, are catching up to Octavia.

It's a stereotypical thing, snow at a funeral. Though I suppose it would be rain more often than not.

Perhaps the bitter cold outside is some Celestia-given gift to keep me from pondering about the cold that freezes me from the inside.

It is a shame that it doesn't.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-01-25 05:38:22 UTC

I'll Never Be Good Enough, Father?

[}—–{ Calls of a Cello's Mellow Strings }–—{]

Words can hurt, or they can inspire.  In my case, I should like to believe both to be true.

As I stand over Father's grave, I can't help but notice all of the tiny little details that dotted its surface.  A chip in the granite, no doubt originating from a careless worker dropping it or handling it roughly.  A few weeds growing in one of the corners, products of a lazy gravedigger, who would be content with tossing in the same, grass-infested dirt that he had just dug out.  A place where the hooves of the pastor had scuffed at the polished plaque atop the freshly turned earth as he trotted symbolically over the grave, showing a physical sort of "passing" through one world into the next.  It's amazing what a pony notices when they're at a funeral.