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Best Hearth's Warming Eve
Best Hearth's Warming Eve
It was a windy and snowy beginning of the night of Hearth's Warming Eve around Ponyville. Nopony dared brave the raging snowstorm save one. That one's filly stood, hands pressed against the glass of her bedroom window. “Please mom...” she whispered, dressed up in muffin-print pajamas. “...come home.”
It had been many hours since her mother had decided to volunteer to send “a couple” more deliveries across Ponyville. At that time, the storm hadn't looked like the raging torrent it looked like now. That Derpy still hadn’t returned spoke to her determination. That bravery, to charge into the oncoming storm and not retreat to safety when conditions worsened, was one of the reasons why little Dinky looked up to her mother. She had the perseverance to go on, even with her many screw ups and other accidents.
But tonight worried Dinky. Her mom had been away much longer than originally planned, and the storm k
Star Dust - Chapter 9
“AA-HA!” Star exclaimed as her pillow swang towards Twilight who barely dodged the incoming pillow that came from her left. "I think she takes this a bit way too seriously..." Twilight thought as a small amount of feathers escaped from Star’s pillow as it hit the wall. "But this certainly bring back some memories of my first slumber party."
It was rather strange that Star was using the pillows like, well, like a sword; like the unicorns of old did. And the battle stance she took was also a reflection of those ancient warriors.
"Only, maybe that “fight” wasn't this serious…" Twilight this time dodged two pillows that came from both sides. She then tried to “counter-attack”, but Star was able to block it while sending another pillow at Twilight.
"She's good at this," Twilight thought worriedly. "A bit too good." Suddenly another pillow flew only a few inches from her face
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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