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>You never had it easy
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>Contrary to what most thought about you, growing up was absolute hell
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>Chasing some shady con artist and her dense little sister
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>Sleeping in mud
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>Dealing with the shame of arrests and being stuck in some pig sty of a pen for every mare and stallion to scoff and insult
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>Dealing with getting left behind every time you felt the least amount of comfort
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>Dealing with being so confused and clueless that you didn't even know how to use magic
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>Those were the days, weren't they?
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>You look down at the street from your office
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>All of them have families
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>Friends
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>Trustworthy ponies that live their lives to the fullest
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>You used to avoid these parts of towns and cities
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>They were rich
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>Too rich for you
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>You could never blend in, no matter how hard you tried
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>Even if you were offered something, you didn't know how to grab it with your magic
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>Like a nightmare come true, everyone would look at the filly who was gifted an ice cream and let it fall to the ground
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>It works better now
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>The last time you had an accident, it was covered up
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>But you had to change to another town
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>You've been here for...
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>How long has it been?
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>Three months by next week?
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>You're a respectable mare now
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>You focus on numbers, logistics
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>Due to your help, what used to be a little tinder box of a lumber company has grown
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>Swallowed up competition and spit out the redundant bones
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>You would never admit to it
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>You would never show
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>But part of you enjoyed seeing stallions and mares lamenting about how they could no longer feed their families
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>Why would you care?
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>You got by just fine
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>You did more than just get by
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>Years of crying, fighting, bleeding, stealing, lying
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>All of those things made you the mare that you are today
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>They even call you "Ms. Shine" now
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>No one would ever call you that without your position
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>Your power
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>That is all that matters now, isn't it?
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>Jacky and that "Dashie" of hers...
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>You haven't seen them in years
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>After that fight with that so-called gang of colts, you were left bleeding on the ground
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>That was when your magic first truly came to life
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>It hurt more than anything else in your life, to push your chest back out
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>But apparently you lived
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>They did too, you imagine
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>When you came to visit them a few days after, they were gone
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>The rags they had
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>The bottles of perfume
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>Even the food
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>All of it was still in that rat's nest of a tunnel
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>Of course, you ate all of the food
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>You sold the perfume
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>Or did your best to
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>There's someone always in greater need
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>So you exploited that
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>Without hesitation, you sold every dram of foul smelling floral liquid to anyone who would give you the time of day
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>You wouldn't have
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>But thankfully others did
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>Once you finally started to accumulate enough bits, you bought yourself a meal
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>A real meal
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>You couldn't finish it
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>No matter how ravenous you were, you left two thirds of it alone
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>You never did understand how and why you would so something so wasteful
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>They wouldn't come back fo ryou
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>They weren't your true friends
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>They were never your friends
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>But you were theirs
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>Why else would you have followed them for hundreds and thousands of miles?
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>Why else would you always include them in on your plans and schemes?
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>Sure, some went bad and you had to leave them behind
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>They weren't useless, they could handle themselves
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>And they didn't show hesitation when they were in the clear and you were in trouble
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>You look at your desk
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>Proper
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>Rich, dense wood
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>You had it built, custom-made
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>When you first got an office, it doubled as your home
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>You ate and slept in it
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>A hard wood floor was nothing compared to mud, stone and worse
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>Others took that a sign of endearment and dedication
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>Even where you work right now
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>You wouldn't hesitate to burn everything down if it suited you
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>Why would you care?
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>They paid you
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>You did things no one else could
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>That was as far as that relationship went
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>You work until the sun goes down
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>Letters and business offers
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>Warnings of audits if not-at-all-fake threats were ignored
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>A
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>A personal letter?
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>Who would give a letter to you?
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>The last time you had any form of social call or personal letter, it was a suitor
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>Your horn went out of whack and burned him when he said that he loved you
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>You hadn't even met him before, and after only a few hours of talking he went and said that
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>You were mortified but did your best to remain stoic
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>You thought for sure that you would be flayed and left for crows to pick at
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>...Instead, days later the fool's father approached you and apologized
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>He formally apologized for his son's behavior and offered you a job
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>The goal, he said, was apparently to have his son married off and to get a company asset, all at once
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>You still don't get it even today
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>The father has long since been in the ground and the son runs things now
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>He apparently never married but also never spoke to you
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>Not directly
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>Perhaps he knows what's good for him
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>You carefully open the letter
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>You often rip them apart out of poor control but others view it as anger or frustration
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>Compared to what you felt before, this is nothing
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>"Bonjour!
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>This is Madam Jelly Belly. It has come to my attention that you were once friends with a little filly who called herself "Jacky". Do you remember her? I sure hope so!
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>I am reaching out to you in hopes that you have knowledge on where she lives. Ever since she ran away, I have given every bit I could to help find her."
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>...of course
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>You haven't seen her for years and she's still somehow so much more important than you
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>You have the strong urge to stop reading and to just turn the letter to ashes
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>But
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>You continue to read
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>"Through my team's investigations, we have found out through numerous guard reports that you were a known associate of her. I hope this means you were a friend as well?"
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>As if
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>She wasn't your friend
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>Just as you apparently weren't hers
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>"If so, please write me back! I feel foolish for letting her run like that. If she is in trouble, or has found her family, or whatever the situation may be, allow me to help! I promise that I will do everything in my family's power to help. She doesn't need to keep running."
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"Fat chance, lady..."
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>The first words you've spoken all day
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>Bitter and quiet
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>"For your assistance, I have sent an unmarked but signed cheque. To show me your support, please write whatever number you wish and cash it. Upon cashing, I will be notified of your bank of choice and we can talk further.
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>May every day bring a new blessing!
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>~Jelly Belly"
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>You turn the letter over
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>Apparently it is a check
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>Signed and dated too
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>All that is left to fill in is the amount
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>What a silly mare
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>Doesn't she know that someone could openly rob her?
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>What does she have to gain, by risking so much?
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>If the thought were more humorous you might have smiled
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>Instead, the letter ignites in a white-hot blaze
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>You watch the fire dance and consume
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>The fire used to be a dark, bloody red
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>But it brightened up, the more you learned to control it
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>Then it turned to orange
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>Then yellow
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>Blue
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>Now, from blue to even white
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>You hardly recognize it anymore
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>When there are only remnants of ashes that remain, collected in a little red ball
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>It blinks away
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>Outside of the smell of burnt paper and the ambient heat that turned part of your desk black, no traces remain
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>Just like what happened to those two
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>You finish your day only when the sun goes down
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>Without moving from your spot, you directly affect the lives of dozens of ponies
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>Some are letters of resignation
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>Letters for assistance or for bonuses
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>Some that are almost legal threats about their businesses getting devoured
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>So much is affected
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>And you can't bring yourself to care
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>If they were smarter, they would surely be in your position
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>If they had friends, they would surely find other work, or have support
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>If they were willing to do what you did, they would surely not be so pathetic
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>But there they were
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>And here you are
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>"Miss Shine?"
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>The faintest smile you could have drops at the sound of some office filly tapping her hoof against your door
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"What."
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>You don't mean to be mean
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>You don't care if you are, granted
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>But the fear in her eyes when she looks at you
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>Part of you knows exactly what that is
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>You can't hate someone who is so clueless
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>You aren't a monster
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>The filly flinches at your cold reply
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>"O-oh, uh, I... ah..."
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>She looks down at the floor, disengaging from your empty stare
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>If you were still that little trash pony, would she still be so cowardly?
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>Probably not
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>The passing thought makes you blink
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"Speak."
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>The idle annoyance in your tone makes her jump high enough to nearly knock her head on the ceiling
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>"AH! I-I'm catering for today's dinner b-because my parents ahum... we r-run a cafe! Would you like some... food? Please?"
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>This is probably a ploy to get you on their good sides
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>Even here, you aren't a nobody
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>You glare at her
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>Rather, it's more like you stare right through her
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>Does she have friends?
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>How will she recount this situation with you?
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>Of all of the things she would says, she probably wouldn't dare badmouth you
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>Because she knows that with a signature and a quickly drafted declaration, you could kill her family
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>...
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>'s business
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>You blink a few times at that thought
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>It doesn't impress you
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>You really don't feel anything at all from it
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"Yes. Thank you. I think I have had them before. My usual."
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>Relieved that you have finally given her an answer, she salutes for a full second before fleeing at full speed
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>"Yes thank you I'll be baaaaaaa..."
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>It's obvious you've frightened her
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>You didn't mean to
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>In record time, the filly and two delivery mares stop by
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>Without moving, you watch the night sky take over while the meal is set up
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>It's a feast, frankly
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>More than enough to feed three
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>"T-thank you for choosing us Miss Shine! P-please come again!"
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>The filly and her two cohorts leave
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>Funny
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>You have more than enough money than you care to count
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>And yet they haven't charged you
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>You paid them exactly once
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>After that, they refused to take your money
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>They came up with excuse after excuse, until the father outright begged that you eat for free
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>The cafe was his grandmother's and he wished to see it flourish long enough for his daughter's foals to run it
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>The notion was hilarious to you
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>At the time, you didn't understand it
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>The mere concept
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>You laughed at him
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>You howled with manic jubilation at his request
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>Much to his horror
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>You could see it in his eyes
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>The look that he was going to die if you said "no"
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>You left, still cackling
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>You never did answer him
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>But apparently he took it as a good sign and always had some pony deliver food right to your office
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>Twice a day, without fail
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>Every breakfast was simple enough
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>Your stomach and body had grown enough that you no longer felt ill by eating an entire plate by yourself
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>And for dinner...
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>Three plates
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>Three separate orders
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>You don't remember what they used to like to eat anymore
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>You have memories
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>But they aren't clear
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"You two better be grateful."
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>You mumble to yourself
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>You eat in silence, watching the two other plates
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>This probably looks pathetic, but no one has ever said it
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>You would feel ashamed
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>But you really just can't feel anything at all
by BlondieAnon
by BlondieAnon
by BlondieAnon
by BlondieAnon
by BlondieAnon