Memory


                                            >"Fancy seeing you here."

                                            "Come here often?"

                                            >She giggles.

                                            >Together you sit, enjoying the peace and quiet.

                                            >"Just let me finish setting the sun, and then-"

                                            "No."

                                            >"Beg your pardon?"

                                            "Let it linger."

                                            >She casts you a sideways glance.

                                            "Please. For me."

                                            >She lowers onto her haunches with all the effortless poise you've come to expect.

                                            >"Bit for your thoughts, dear."

                                            "My dad."

                                            >Minutes pass.

                                            >"Anything in particular?"

                                            "I've told you about phones, haven't I?"

                                            >She nods.

                                            "We used to talk at night. When we were both off work. He loved the moon."

                                            >"Sounds like he'd have a kindred spirit in Luna, no?"

                                            >An absent-minded chuckle escapes.

                                            "You could say that."

                                            >Wipe your eyes.

                                            >Quickly now, before she notices.

                                            "Anyway, he'd say to me, he'd say, 'Son, look up at the moon.' So I would. Then he'd go, 'Even though we're hundreds of miles apart, you and I are looking at the same moon, right now together.'"

                                            >She says nothing.

                                            >It's hard to tell if she's even nodded in your peripheral vision.

                                            "I thought about calling him one evening, y'know."

                                            >Sniff

                                            "The moon wasn't out, but the sun was setting. It was beautiful, just like right now. I can still see how the dying sunlight illuminates the wisps of clouds above the mountains."

                                            >A hoof rests on your shoulder.

                                            >"Anon, honey..."

                                            >Keep staring West, just like you did on that day.

                                            >Your vision may be blurry now, but the memory is evergreen.

                                            "I picked up the phone. I scrolled down to his number, and then I hesitated."

                                            >"Why?"

                                            "Because I realized where he lived, the sun had already set. Night had come for him, just as surely as the twilight was upon me; then and now."

                                            >"Anon-"

                                            "Celestia."

                                            >"Yes?"

                                            "Please. Let it linger a bit longer."

                                            >"I suppose I will. It is that time of the year, after all."

                                            "Because it's Spring, but not for your ol' Anon?"

                                            >You don't have the energy to pout; fake or otherwise.

                                            >"Maybe partly for you..." she says, blowing a raspberry.

                                            >By the gods, she's brave.

                                            "Attagirl."

                                            >It's quiet; still.

                                            >The Light clings for whatever handhold it can find over the West, not going quietly.

                                            >Orange fades to pink, to various hues of purple.

                                            "I regret not calling him."

                                            >"You're sweating."

                                            "I don't know what I would've said. I was so lost in that moment, the implications."

                                            >Her muzzle brushes your forehead.

                                            >"Sweetheart, you're burning up!"

                                            "I miss him. Even after all these years, I miss him."

                                            >Golden light envelops you, flickers, then fades to naught.

                                            >"Darling, please. PLEASE."

                                            >You blink, refocusing on her.

                                            "What's wrong?"

                                            >Tears cut sparkling paths down her ivory fur.

                                            >"Don't."

                                            >She bows her head, her barrel shudders.

                                            "Hey. Hey..."

                                            >You cup her cheek in your palm, as you've done for ages.

                                            "Stay with me."

                                            >"I'm not g-going anywhere," she manage to say between sobs.

                                            "I'm not leaving, Cel. The girls. You have the girls."

                                            >"I can send for them. There's still time!"

                                            >Stars blink to life overhead.

                                            >You've always loved the stars.

                                            >And the moon.

                                            >But nothing like your love for the Sun.

                                            >Your Sun.

                                            >"Hi, Son."

                                            >Dad?


                                            -----


                                            Call your Mom. Call your Dad. Call your friends and family members. Tell them you love them. You never know when it'll be your last chance.