Thankless, dressed in his black bodysuit, slipped quietly through the shadows of Ponyville's back alleys. He was careful to avoid the open streets whenever he could, because the squares of light dotting the pavement told him that there were still ponies awake in their houses. He knew he couldn't afford to be caught sneaking around in the dark - that would surely mean spending the night in jail, along with a hefty fine for possessing dangerous weapons, at the very least.
He snuck down an alley, his back pressed against the stone wall of a house. He ducked behind a stack of wooden crates and looked back in the direction he had come from. He di
Thankless, dressed in his black bodysuit, slipped quietly through the shadows of Ponyville's back alleys. He was careful to avoid the open streets whenever he could, because the squares of light dotting the pavement told him that there were still ponies awake in their houses. He knew he couldn't afford to be caught sneaking around in the dark - that would surely mean spending the night in jail, along with a hefty fine for possessing dangerous weapons, at the very least.
He snuck down an alley, his back pressed against the stone wall of a house. He ducked behind a stack of wooden crates and looked back in the direction he had come from. He di
I am but a moth in the world of a social butterfly
A dull, grey moth; at home flitting about the star-filled night sky
out of place in this sea of painted ladies, monarchs, and swallowtails
that flutter about
in their ever jubilant aerial dance
under the clear sky and bright sun.
Every time it snows here, I start thinking of The Beatles song "Here Comes The Sun." Even I'm finding it weird. Although I do love the snow. I even love the rain and overcast days much more than sunny days.