Lost in Translation

Chapter 1 - The Kitchen Sink

>The crunching leaves underneath your shoes are the only accompanying soundtrack to your walk from work.
>The shortcut leads through the park's beautiful boulevard, lined with the now golden-brown autumn-leafed trees.
>As beautiful as it is though, seeing it for hundreds of times every day, morning and evening, makes it lose its charm.
>Shifting your coat higher up your right shoulder with a shrug, and finding a better grip on your briefcase with your left hand, you sigh.
>Working in a dead-end job with no-one to talk to at home and no friends to party with.
>It's been like this your whole life.
>And it's gonna be like this for the rest of it.

>Finally, you arrive at your destination.
>A small cottage, near the outskirts of town.
>It's a family home; many of your older generations have lived in it.
>Unlocking the front door, you waste no time dragging yourself in and locking the door behind you.
>The empty home creaks with your arrival.
>You hang your coat on the coat hanger, place your shoes beside the door, and head upstairs.
>As you climb the steps, you look to the wall along it.
>Photos of the previous generations that lived in the home hang along the stairs.
>All of them had big smiles, ranged from couples to 3 generations in one photo.
>All except your photo.
>There you are, putting on a fake smile, wearing your favourite suit, and sporting your signature hairstyle.
>But it's just you in the photo, alone.
>No other photo among your entire family collection had only one person in it...
>You resort to think about something else while you prepare the bath and undress.
>Squatting into the warm cleansing water, you scrub yourself down.
*Thump*
>Sighing in relaxation, you slide into a laying position, with your neck just above the water.
*Thump*
>You close your eyes and drift off into the comforts of sle-
*BANG*
"Oh for fuck's sake!"
>You rise unceremoniously out of the now-lukewarm water filled bathtub and walk towards the open bathroom door fully naked.
>No need for privacy or modesty in an empty house.
"It came from the kitchen, I think...",
>thinking aloud to yourself.
>Hearing cutleries shift and plates move, you cautiosly approah the archway entrance to the kitchen.
>Counting down from 3, you get ready to pounce on the intruder.
>Take a deep breath
>3...
>Clench your fist in anticipation.
>2...
>Turn towards the door, and crouching ever so slightly, to ready a jump.
>1...
>Forcing your legs down, you launch your body right into the middle of the archway.
>Aaand, nobody's there.
>A slap of meat is heard.
>Look down.
>Your dick is swaying in the air, limp after hitting your thigh.
"Oh that's right, I'm naked!"
>Chuckling to yourself at your >freedums, you turn your back to the kitchen and proceed to-
*Thump*
>That came from under the sink!
>If this was Hitman and if you were an NPC, you would be on yellow alert now.
>You hope this isn't really Hitman, and there isn't a bald albino dude in a suit under your sink with a silverballer aimed right where your head is right now...
>Nope, totally isn't Hitman.
>Shaking your head at the thought, you approach the sink.
>You bend down to face the doors under the sink.
>Taking a deep breath, you reach for the doorknobs.
>Sweat beads down your face.
>Your breathing intensifies.
>Your heartbeats overtake any other sound in the room.
>Your hands shiver slightly at the increadibly slow pace you're taking to open a goddamn door.
"What the fuck am I doing"
>Swing the doors open to reveal...
>A yellow shivering miniature pony with wings cowering in the back.
>Sigh in relief.
>Shut the door nonchalantly.
"And I thought something weird was going on"
>Wait a minute... a pony?
>You throw open the doors again, elliciting a shaking, panicking response from the tiny yellow pony.
>Must've wandered in from the woods or someshit.
"Uh... hey there little guy, er, girl..?"
>You extend an open palm at the pony, and all it does it whimper and curl up more into the corner.
>Rising up from your crouched position, you sigh.
>Memorising the shit you've learn in basic biology, you draw up a plan.
>Animals like food.
>Animals doesn't like humans.
>Animals like humans when they give food.
>Therefore... giving food to the pony is gonna make it like you!
>Of course!
>Giving your brain a pat on the back, you search the decades old cupboards for pet food.
>Nope, not in these.
>Nothing here.
>Don't think ponies eat rat droppings.
>Think, where could something that a pony can eat be around a house?
>The shed, right!
>You recall that in one of the photos, your great-grandfather tamed a wild horse that used to roam the forest.
>Horse = pony, right?
>Horses are big creatures, so naturally they'd be out in the shed.
>Walk out to the back of the cottage.
>Man, it's messy back here.
>The grass is knee-high, wildly growing weeds and shrubs scattered around the place.
>You realise since inheriting this place, you've never been to more than four rooms out of the twelve.
>In fact, you've been to more rooms today than for the five years living here.
>One day you'll make a map of this place.
>But today is not that day.
>What were you doing..?
>Right, the pony.
>Battling through the grass and vines, you reach the big doors of the make-shift stable.
>The doors themselves are covered in layers of dead and live creepers and tree branches.
>Using your sick gainz, you rip the bramble off and shove the door open.
>Huge dust tornadoes wash over you, causing you to succumb to a coughing fit.
>It's dark, damp and dusty in this damn d-room.
>There's plenty of hay scattered all around, so you grab a fairly big haul back into the house.
>It scratches the shit out of your chest.
>Fucking wild animals... making you work and shit
>A trail of hay and dusty footsprints follows you from the shed all the way back to the kitchen.
>Carefully pile the hay on the floor beside the sink doors, and peer in.
>It's still there, phew.
>Grabbing a handful of straw, you gesture to the pony.
"Here, little guy, have some delicious, er, years old straw".
>It doesn't respond.
>Something isn't right here.
>Dropping the straw and moving closer to it, you try to coax it out of its place.
>It doesn't seem to be reacting to your presence.
>The little pony isn't moving at all.
>In fact, you could say it might be... no!
>Panicking, you dive your hands under the fragile thing and lift it out.
>It's small, just slighly big enough to fill your cradled arms.
>Put your ears to its chest and listen out for its lungs.
>Oh thank goodness, it's still breathing, albeit shallowly.
>Looking around for a place to put it, you decide to lay it on the living room couch.
>It lays there, but you're not sure if it's sleeping or passed out.
>You hope it's the former.
>Calming down from the surge of adrenaline, you take the opportunity to have a closer look at it.
>It's not yellow, but more of a paler gold-ish kinda colour.
>Pink hair..?
>Tramp stamp on the side of its butt.
>Three pink and blue butterflies.
>Eyes travelling downwards, your eyes spot something interesting.
>It's a 'she'.
>No boner, stop.
>As you look down at your growing need, a curtain of dust fall out of your hair.
>All that adventuring, while you were as naked as the day you were born...
>Go to the bathroom and check the damages.
>Your hair is full of cobwebs, chest red from scratches, hay stuck between your buttcheeks.
>Eeeh, you can take a shower again.
>But for now, you've got a pony to care for.

END