Archived - Project100 - A Year's Worth

Project100's story reuploaded for those who don't want to download his archive.

	A Year's Worth

	▪

	A cold breeze soundlessly rolled over the bare of your neck.  With a shiver traveling down your spine, you snuggled deeper into your coat.  Odd, a chill breeze like that this time of year.  About half a second later, you heard the soft crunching of damp grass underneath hooves and the rustling of her feathers brushing against her coat as she folded her wings.  She walked around the bench and took a seat next to you.
	"Hello, miss."  That's how you've grown used to greet her.

	For all the arrogance, pretense and self-imposed importance the ponies of Canterlot carried with them, carefully balanced atop their perpetually raised noses, the park seemed to be a different world entirely.  There were no exotic plants, no labyrinthine fountains, nor was there obscure modern art that required several years of extremely expensive education to 'truly understand'.  When the upper crust dared to stride outside of their little cocoon of haute-couture and bought-off security, they made sure to remind everypony — yes, quite literally every single pony — of how great their city, Canterlot, was and how every other city simply paled in comparison.
	Yet when they were asked what their park looked like, no two descriptions would match.  Some simply said Canterlot had no park, that such a thing belonged to the past.  Others were ravenous in describing all the marble statues that stood amidst rare, imported flowers from Saddle Arabia and the likes.  Yet different others went on and on about botanic sculptures that would make your breath stock in your throat, were you ever to lay eyes on them.
	No two descriptions would ever match, for none of the elite had ever set foot in the park.  Their simple, mundane, good, plain old boring park.
	There was a pond that housed a family of ducks.  Regular, yellow ducks that ate bread and quacked excitedly for no apparent reason.  There were a few trees, some grass.  A lot of grass, some might dare say.  The nature of such things is debatable.  All of it was green, though — on that they could agree.  All in all, a park most like any other and as such, most unsuited for the likes of Canterlot.
	A park most like any other, save for the adobe statue of the two princesses whose names were known all over the world.

	"Hello, sir," came the answer of the younger one.

	▪

	One might ask where a being as strange as you met a pony as strange as Luna.  'A very strange place' would be the correct answer to that question.  A place where few come during the day and even fewer during the night.  'Canterlot Park', that is.

	A few months ago, sleep refused to come to you easily.  Or just at all.  So, with burning eyes that refused to stay shut and your pajamas and slippers worn underneath a coat, you began to roam the city at night, searching where sleep was hiding from you.  One of these corners, one of these streets would be hiding the culprit.  And when you finally found it, you'd drag the little bastard home with you, so you could lie down in bed and forcefully snuggle with the pesky perpetrator.  Maybe then, you'd finally be able to drift away into a peaceful sleep and those pestering thoughts keeping you awake would gently fade into silence.
	One particular night, it might have been a full moon or not, you found this wonderful place.  And for a moment, when you sat down on the park's bench and watched the moonlight ripple in the pond, it was like you had never left Earth to begin with.  The night was just as cold as it was back home and when the owls hooted, it sounded just the way it had sounded at home.  Yes, for a moment, you truly never left.  Until She took a seat next to you, that is.
	"Dost thou object?" she had bellowed.  To be entirely truthful, you thought she was asking if you were an object.  Luckily enough, the "Uh... no?" you stammered out sufficed as an equally good answer to both those questions.

	And so came your first night spent on a park's bench, talking to one of two rulers over this kingdom and so much more.  As the first had come, so had a second and a third and a twentieth.  You hadn't found sleep.  But what you had found instead was just as precious to you: a friend, someone looking for an ear willing to listen and offering her own in return.  All in all, not a bad result for a night's worth of aimlessly wandering throughout town in your jammies.

	▪

	The sun still hung above the horizon, struggling to set, despite it rapidly nearing midnight.  In the amber coloring of the dying sun, Luna's features were harshly defined, sharp like the bones protruding her skin.
	"The Summer solstice is nearing..."
	Though it was hard to tell due to her dark coat, Luna's eyes seemed tired, sunken deeper into their sockets than you were comfortable with.  She, too, hadn't been sleeping an awful lot as of late, though it seemed to have more of a toll on her than it did on you.
	A forlorn sigh left her.  "Yes," she whispered.  Her voice sounded frail and weary.
	"You look terrible, Luna."
	For a moment, her lips set themselves in a thin smile.  She even laughed a little, tired as it was.  "Always the gentlecolt, are you not," she mused.  Then she put her mask back on and stared into the horizon.  "Almost a year since my return..."
	"And almost a year since my arrival."
	Luna's head tilted to the right, towards you.  "Do you think they are related?"
	"I don't know anything about magic," you said, "but I don't think so, no."

	Silence fell again and you knew this would be another night of long talks, even longer silences, and little sleep.

	▪

	Maybe a minute passed, maybe an hour.  In all likeliness, something in between the two.

	"Why do you always come here?" she asked.  "How do you know which nights I shall choose to accompany you?"
	This time, it was your turn to form a small smile.  "Who says I come here for you, then?"  She turned towards you, a scowl that refused to decide on either anger or confusion being thrown your way.  Your eyes sought the horizon and all above.  "I just like looking at the stars."  She huffed.  "Your company is a nice extra, though."
	Quietly, even frailer and weaker than before, you heard her say, "Thank you."  It could have easily been mistaken for the breeze rustling trough the leaves.
	Luna tended to be a quiet pony for the most part.  As far as you knew her, at least.  Your conversations with her often seemed to reach awkward moments in which you both wordlessly decided silence to be a more ameliorating alternative.  But today's silence didn't sit well with you.  It was the wrong kind of silence.
	"What for?"
	Unmoving, she spoke, "For looking at the stars.  For caring...  Helping..."  She turned her head towards you and forced herself to give you a tired smile.  "Coming here, I suppose."
	It was nothing like her to be carrying herself like this.  Nothing like the usual talk of the grandeur of the ancient city — in a time where it was warranted and sincere, nothing like nowadays — nor anything like her recollections of the night court.  She didn't speak much, never more than was needed, but when she did it was passionate, almost like shouting but with a heart-warming enthusiasm laced throughout.  Now, her candle faded with the setting sun.
	"What's wrong, Luna?"
	"Wrong?" she asked.  "What's wrong?"  The sun finally made way for its counterpart, dipping below the horizon.  In the last embers of daylight, Luna's eyes stared at the pond, hollow, uncaring for the ducks that swam in it.
	"A year, Anonymous.  A year since I have returned from a thousand years of sleep from this world.  A millennium I have spent in solitude to reflect upon what I did; a millennium in which the only one I had to talk to was myself...  Entire lifetimes passed by in loneliness and now, a year after I've finally been allowed to return, I do not believe I have ever felt more distanced from my subjects than I do this day."  She sighed.  "Maybe it is me, maybe I am what's wrong."

	Luna tended to be a quiet pony for the most part.  Tonight was shaping up like it'd bring some change to that notion.

	▪

	"Hey...  I know what it's like to have to get used to a new setting."
	She snorted at that and her brow settled in a frown, though she refused to face you.  "You do.  And you do not.  You did not know what Canterlot was like a thousand years ago, I did.  You did not know the ponies that lived here a thousand years ago, I did.  You were no ruler here a thousand years ago..."  She sighed, her temper settling beneath its mask once again.  "Neither was I."
	"I thought you were glad to be back.  Where's all this coming from all of a sudden?"

	"I remember when I first met you here.  You looked so terrified when you saw me," she said.
	You turned towards her, trying to invoke some sort of response from her with a lopsided grin.  "If you're honest, you have to agree with me that you used to be way scarier back then."
	"Way," she said.  "But at least you've learned to look past that.  You even helped me adjust."
	"It just creeped me out when you referred to yourself as 'us'."
	She smiled at that, genuinely.  The upcoming moonlight reflected from those deep-blue orbs and the stars in her ethereal mane seemed as if they shimmered more clearly than moments before.
	"No matter what your motivation was, you did help me.  I fear the same cannot be said for others."  And like that, her smile faded, not even bothering to put up a fight.  "Memories of my exile are... hard to recollect.  Night after night of seclusion and silence wears a pony down, Anon.  But what I fear most of all is that in recent days I've begun to miss it.  I wonder why I came back."
	"Is that why you haven't been sleeping?"
	She nodded.  "I had not expected things to change this much," she admitted.
	"But what about your sister?  I heard about the party they threw when you returned.  Aren't you at least happy to see her again?"
	The moon hung halfway across the sky, indecisive.  Luna closed her eyes and muttered, "Days from now, my night will last less than an hour."  A whimper brushed past her silken lips.  "And it will be the happiest time of year ponies know."

	This night, however, would not be over any time soon.

	▪

	"I had not expected things to change this much, Anon.  Nor had I expected my sister to change this much."  You didn't even had to ask her.  "She still looks at me like you once did.  Fearful.  Cautious, if I were to be optimistic.  But the novelty has worn off now.  I am back, but I can see she knows not what to do with that knowledge."
	You placed a hand on her back.  Neither you nor Luna cared much for the way royalty — and Canterlot folks in general — distanced themselves from one another as by some sort of unspoken rule.  The insecurity they all held was nearly palpable.
	"I was scared too, you know.  I don't know what to make out of this entire situation either most of the time."
	"And yet you live life callously.  You go about your days as if you've been living here your entire life."
	"What else am I to do, Luna?  Like you said, the novelty wore off.  Either I try to get by as well as I can, or..."
	"Or you end up like me.  Living in a world you do not understand."
	"Does she know about this?  Have you told Celestia about any of this?"  You feel her wings tense underneath your touch.  "I had no one to help me, Luna.  You do."

	"And there, Anon, I fear we disagree."  Luna's eyes settled on her moon and she cocked her head.  A blue light, as bright as the night and not bright at all, came from her horn.  Her aura lingered around her horn like smoke being blown back and forth.  She smiled and when you looked where she was looking, you could see her shift a single star across the sky.  "We have grown apart."  Soon, another star became subject to her prowess, shifting ever so slightly farther away from the one she held before.
	You've long since given up on how this world worked.  It didn't concern you.

	"When I came back, a new castle had been built.  Around it, a new city."  Her aura dissipated slowly, trailing away in the night's breeze.  The sky looked exactly the same as it did before to untrained eyes.  "Canterlot as a bastion of unison.  I did not understand why, but knowing what memories remained attached to the castle of our youth, I did not question her."
	For the first time of the night, Luna turned to face you eye-to-eye.  All those sleepless nights and days now showed on her face clearer than ever.  "I think...  I think she forgot that I would be coming back at all, Anonymous."

	▪

	"And why is that?"
	She broke eye-contact, instead turning back to look at her two stars, her eyes unsteady.  "I have been given a room, a guard, and a throne.  And all I seem to be able to do is wonder why."  Her wings lifted themselves ever so slightly, immediately settling themselves back down moments after.  Her tail and mane wafted back and forth with vigor and there was something utterly terrifying about it.  "I spend nearly all my time in my room.  Not once have any of the guards asked for orders.  Not once have I sat atop that throne, nor has there been a single night court since my return.  Not once—"  With a sigh that sounded more annoyed than anything, Luna shook her head.  "We are no longer the ponies we were, then.  I doubt she knew what she did to me."  Luna fell silent for a while.  "She could have locked me in a dungeon, could have taken my magic away.  She could have taken my life.  In all of those, we wouldn't have changed.  I might hate her; she might pity me.  But we wouldn't have become like this."  Luna's brow finally decided to settle on a frown as she looked at her stars.  "I doubt she knew what she did."

	It's taken her almost a year before she brought this up.  You've heard the story somewhere, vaguely.  At the time, your nightly strolls to the park had already become common practice.  And if she was willing to give you, the troubled human, a chance; wasn't she worthy of one too?  It's not like her past mattered to you.  But perhaps you should have brought it up, asked her how she was doing.  All the tales she told you were of a city that no longer existed, inhabited by ponies whom no longer exist and whose memories in Luna were all that remained.  Your gaze joined hers in the night sky.
	You've always been drawn by the stars.  Hours you wasted, staring of into that enormous scape of stars and planets and darkness.  It's hard to grasp She made it all by herself.
	"What was it like there, Luna?" you dared ask.  You couldn't imagine to be so far away from it all, even here.
	She breathed soundlessly, but faint white trails of vapor betrayed her as they swirled skywards.  "Cold," she said.  "Lonely."

	She shifted in her seat and her body softly pressed against yours.  In the moonlight, a lone silver tear stained her coat.  "So very, very beautiful."

	▪

	"I used to think my Night was not beautiful enough, that it didn't warrant admiration like my Sister's Day for a lack of beauty.  So I tried, Anonymous; I tried to make it more beautiful.  Hoping that there'd come a day where a pony would come to the night court, not with concerns my Sister couldn't make time for, but instead, to talk to me.  About my night.  About its beauty."  She blinked and wiped her eye.  "That day did not come."
	"I think your night is beautiful, Luna," you said, laying your arm around her.
	"As do I."  You saw her sneak a glance at you out of the corner of your eyes.  "In my last years, I devoted every waking moment to perfecting my night.  Many nights and days on end, I stayed awake so I could keep working.  When I had started, I strove to create something beautiful."  A lone owl hoots.  "What my motivation was in those last few years, I do not rightfully know.  It ended up consuming me whole, devouring whom I once used to be."
	"That's when..."
	"I would become the Nightmare soon after that, yes."  She grimaced at that, her features in the low, white light turning sullen.  "And my Sister would exile me soon after that as well."  Luna softly breathed, her body brushing against yours with the falling and rising of her chest.  "I thought my night was not beautiful enough for it to be appreciated.  And then my Sister banished me to the moon and not only did I see the whole of my creation, I was part of it.  For the first time in years, my mind seemed to be clear.  I didn't think of the ponies anymore.  All there was, as far as I could see, was my Night.  All those years I spent, pouring my heart and my soul into my creation, hit me in that moment.  And..."  A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and won.  "And I knew then, one thing, most of all: my Night is the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on."
	"I think you might have been right."

	Her smile seemed to grow a little bigger, her mane a little livelier, and her sadness a little more muted.  "I did not understand why ponies did not admire my night as they did the day.  For the longest time of my exile, I spent my time wondering why that was.  In recent days, I still do not understand.  And I no longer strive to, either."  Her gaze flicked towards the castle, far away in the distance and she shook her head.  "I once wanted to have the common folk's love, the wonder in their eyes they share when they behold my sister.  And in that aspect, my sister's punishment could not have been more effective."

	▪

	"What do you mean?"
	"These days I no longer strive to be like her," Luna said.  "And I think she's beginning to see that as well.  I think she's beginning to realize that I don't need her anymore."
	High above Canterlot hung the moon, its harsh white light shining down on the little city.  Shining down on its little park and shining down on a little statue of two ponies who once considered each other sisters.

	"Isn't that just the thing she wanted?  For you to realize that you don't need to live in her shadow?"
	A teasing edge cut its way onto Luna's smile.  "Me?  Living in her shadow?"  The skin around eyes pulled taut, the immortal's age coming to fruition underneath the light of her stars.  "I once thought so too, Anon."
	For the time being, Luna seemed fascinated staring at her own tail until she softly spoke, "We were not the pony we once were, nor shall we ever be again.  The time where I let my self-worth be determined by the admiration of a mass of ponies whom I don't know in the slightest is buried underneath a thousand years of lunar dust and that, Anonymous, is the most terrifying prospect Celestia has ever come across."
	It might be the cold.  Dear, how you hope it's the cold that sent those shivers rolling down your spine.

	"Every morning, she raises her sun and when she does, ponies come out of their houses to bask in its light and its warmth.  In her light and warmth.  But you know, Anon..."  She turned to look at you, her face one of complete calm and serenity, yet when you looked in her eyes, you were just as afraid of her as you were the first time you met her.  Something fierce burned in her eyes and you hoped the past would not repeat itself this night.
	"...Few thousands years ago, She and I never raised the celestial bodies.  Our kin did not even intermingle with others.  It was after the years of Chaos that ponies desperately felt the need for some sort of self-control over their environment.  Weather patterns first, though that obviously did not fulfill their needs."
	She lifted her head towards the sky, her voice raising slightly as if she were genuinely surprised.  "Groups of unicorns eventually succeeded in controlling both sun and moon...  And they still could.  They could raise her sun, should they so desire to.  As could they my moon.

	▪

	"She raises the sun and when she does, they admire her.  They look up into the sky, see that comforting warm light and they smile, talking of how amazing she is among each other.  But I wonder — and I think she does too — if it were another who raised the sun; would they know?  The sun would shine just as bright, just as warm and just as brilliant.  They wouldn't even see the difference."  She glances towards the castle in the distance again.  The castle that seems so small now, so pitifully small.  "They would simply forget about her."
	The only thing disturbing the stillness of Canterlot's night were her mane and tail, wafting freely, going along and against the cold chill crawling low across the ground, up the legs of your pants.  Luna's head was still raised, her neck stretched like a wolf about to howl against the wind.  With her eyes closed, she basked in her own light, the icy winds serving as her own warmth.

	"And it made me wonder; who is she without her sun?  And who am I without my moon?"  Her head lowered, eyes remaining closed and you couldn't make out what she muttered to herself — only the look of sorrow on her countenance.  "That's where we changed, I think.  My Night, the tapestry of stars you see now before you...  I made that, Anonymous.  Years on end, I poured myself into the display few ever do so much as glance at.  What I have created can not ever be replaced.  So let unicorns raise the moon!"  Her voice echoed throughout the trees; somewhere in the distance, the hoot of an owl sounded again.  "Let them align the stars!  It will never be the same as I made it.  It might be more beautiful, it might not be."
	In her eyes, you saw that passion again, that reverence with which she spoke of times long since gone.  "It will not be my creation.  It will be different.  And maybe, just maybe then, when somepony glances at the night sky again, they'd see something not as it was."

	Luna sighed.  "And they might remember me after all."

	▪

	"Huh."
	She asked, "Huh?"
	"Yeah...  Huh," you repeated.  "Maybe we've been looking for the same answers all this time."  Luna's brow furrowed at that.  "You know, I'm not really nocturnal."
	"I knew."
	"Oh."
	With a smile, she said, "I'm the princess of the night, Anon.  Your dreams have been troubled lately, I can tell.  I figured you'd bring it up when you were ready for it."
	"Oh."
	She nodded.

	"So what is it that keeps you awake at night?" she asked, draping her wing over your shoulder.
	Luna's earlier display was one of pure, heart-felt honesty.  You think she deserves to be given the same.  "Your sister is a coward, Luna."  You didn't like to think about it much, these days.  The dullness was better than the pain, the scar better than the dirty wound.  "I don't believe this was some sort of bureaucratic mistake.  I refuse to even consider that a possibility."
	Despite the contempt she's shown Celestia herself earlier, Luna still seemed uneasy at the spite you held towards her sister.  Or perhaps it was the spite itself that she'd rather not associate with you.
	"When I first came here, I used to think Equestria was a nice place.  I think it has something to do with the colors.  Everything's so bright here, all whites and golds.  Earth was gray."
	Luna stayed still.
	"And your sister told me she'd make sure that I could go home unharmed, said I wouldn't even remember it happening at all.  So, I got a job at the bakery to pay rent until she found a way to send me back safely.  I'm not going to argue about whether that's fair or not.  I didn't mind working here at first, as long as I could go back home."
	"Anonymous..." she whispered.  Her wing tensed again, pulling you closer.
	You shook your head.  "I dragged myself out of bed, went to work so I could get insulted and berated by some of the meanest pe—  ponies I've ever come across, went back home and went to bed.  Day in, day out that's all I did.  And you know, it didn't matter.  I'd be going home.  Just a few more days, just a few more weeks...  Then she'd come tell me she found it."  You turned to face her, your gazes locked on each other's.  "Do you know when she told me?"
	She shook her head.  "No."
	"I must've been working in the bakery for a few weeks when I came home.  There was a letter in the mailbox.  A letter, Luna.  I found that strange.  Who would send me, of all people, a letter?  I don't remember what it said.  Inconclusive testing...  Potentially harmful...  Full acceptance as an Equestrian citizen...  Oh, what joy that was, Luna.  Full acceptance as an Equestrian citizen.  That's it.  Not even a 'sorry I couldn't do more'.  A fucking letter, Luna.  She gave me a fucking letter and that's...  I guess that must've solved everything 'cause I haven't heard a word from her since.
	"I've lost everything I ever had and she didn't even had the heart to come tell me herself.  I don't care how busy her days are in that castle.  That's cowardice."

	▪

	"Why didn't you say anything about this before?  I might not be my sister, Anonymous, but I still am a princess of Equestria."
	"By the time I got to know who you were..."  Another shake of your head.  "What would it have mattered anyway?  Can you send me home, Luna?"
	Softly, she whispered, "...I cannot."
	"Thought as much."

	It's then, as you let the memories sink in again and let the dullness cover the pain again, that you notice how soft her wing is.  How warm you feel now that she covers you from the night's winds.
	"And I've been thinking, it's like you said: who are you without your moon?  ...Who am I here?"
	Luna's brow furrowed again, her eyes soft and pleading, the pained concern clear on her face.  "What do you dream of, Anon?"

	"Of growing old.  And I try not to dream anymore, but I know there'll come a day where I am just too old and too tired to stay awake.  I fear that I'll fall asleep some day and that, when I wake up, I won't know who I am anymore.  There's no one here who knows, Luna.  You know me now; I like to think you do.  But...
	"I used to be my parent's child, Luna.  You say that you had nothing to come back to, but that's not true.  Equestria is still here.  It's not Equestria like you knew it, but at least you've got something left.  All I've got are memories.  And as soon as I forget about them, they cease to exist.  There's going to come a day where I won't remember who my parents are and there'll be no one here to tell me, Luna."
	You didn't notice you were trembling until you felt her try to hold you close, hold you still.
	"All I've got left are memories waiting to be forgotten about.  And I know that every day, I get a day closer to forgetting them.  At least you've still got something.  It's not the same.  But don't you think it might be beautiful too?  Don't you think there's someone out there who feels just as passionate about something like you?  Are you that destitute?"
	With a pained look, she tried to gather the composure of the immortal she knows she is.  "I...  This isn't a solution.  Your habits are not healthy, Anonymous."
	"Are yours?"

	For the first time that night, silence settled again in the park.

	▪

	Her wing remained to rest on your shoulder, its warmth lulling you.  You wouldn't tell her to take it back.
	"I have spent recent times pondering," she said, "of where to go..."
	"Go?"
	She nodded.  "I hold no place here; my night court has long since been forgotten.  Inside that castle I feel as if a bird in a cage, Anonymous.  Like a puppet on display.  Both sisters happily reunited in their castle..."
	"You're leaving?  Does she know?"
	"Nay," Luna said, shaking her head once.  "I think you can see just as well as I do that now would not be the most suitable time for such a decision."
	"Are you going to the Summer Sun Celebration?"
	"If she asks."  She shrugged her shoulders aimlessly.  "Though I'd much prefer not to."

	"Where will you go?"
	"West, over the mountains.  I wish to see what has become of King Minos' dominion."  She tilted her head, her mane brushing and flicking over your cheek.  "Mayhap visit the Den of Dragons."
	"Luna..."  She looked at you, her expression unreadable.  "It'll have changed there, too.  I know what you're looking for, but it's just something that can't be found.  That time has passed.  Not even you can take that back."
	Unperturbed, she spoke, "My duties will remain to be my own.  I will continue to guide my moon and stars across the sky.  But why stay here?  What promises can this city make me?"
	"You might meet interesting people in the park."
	She smiled and looked away.  "I believe I have already exhausted my luck in that aspect."

	▪

	"Are you hoping for another lucky encounter?" she asked.  "Why not come with?"  Her features seemed softer, younger as she turned towards you.  "I'd like you to join me, Anon.  What keeps you here?"
	"Nothing really, I guess.  I'm just trying to get by."
	"Mayhap we should learn to get by together..."
	Your gaze roamed skywards again.  "Could you take me to the stars someday?"
	"That I could.  Perhaps someday I will," she said.  "This world is as strange to you as it is to me, Anon.  Why not discover it together?"
	"I don't know, Luna."

	She drew her wing back and stood up straight, the cold rushing to strike you again immediately.  "Think about it, will you?"
	All you could manage was a weak nod.
	"Until we meet again," she said with a bow.  "When the stars align once more."
	"Tomorrow?"
	She tittered, her laughter sounding like music through the night sky.  "Yes, tomorrow."  Her brow dipped as she looked at you.  "Try to sleep, Anonymous.  If not at night, then at day.  I shall guard your dreams."

	She disappeared soundlessly, the only thing marking her departure being a soft, cool wind washing over your skin.

	Despite the aching cold, nipping and biting at every bit of bare skin it could find, regardless of the shivers rolling down your frame, you remained seated on that park bench.  Your mind lingered on Luna, wayward and skinny Luna, the only one you'd consider a friend in this world and her offer.
	What was it that kept you here?

	As the moon's descend halted and the sunrise fought against the chill of night, you got up from your seat and walked home, the rhythmic flipping and flopping of your slippers accompanying your every step.


	You had a lot of thinking to do.

	▪