Forever Summer.docx
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- 上传时间:2023-02-01
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Forever Summer.docx
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ForeverSummer
//------------------------------//
//ForeverSummer//byColdinGardez//------------------------------//
//TheFirstDayofSummer//------------------------------//
Themorningdawnedlikeanyotherlate-springdayinPonyville.Birdssinging,gorgeoussunlightingtheeasternsky,etcetera,etcetera.Theusual,inotherwords:
PonyvillebeingPonyville.Celestia'sfavoritelittletown,whereeverythingwasperfect.
Exceptforalltheterrifiedponies.Thatwasabitunusual,butwe'llgettotheminamoment.
Thedaylookedtobeascorcher.Thesunwasn'tevenoverthehorizon,andalreadythehumidairstucktoponies'coatsandsmotheredtheirtongueswitheachbreath.Highabove,theearly-risersofthePonyvilleWeatherTeamhadalreadyclearedawaythenight'sthinovercast,leavingonlyadeepazurethatslowlybledtogreyandpinkintheeast.Aweakbreezerustledthehighestleavesonthegreatoakinthetownsquare,butatstreetleveltheairbarelystirred,asifittoowerestilltryingtowake.
Thefarmponieswerealreadyupandgettingtowork.Theyrosewiththesun,ormaybeabitearlier,dependingonhowlazythesunwasbeingthatday.Celestiawasknowntosleepinsometimes,despitetheattemptsofherentirestafftobreakdownherchamberdoorandrousehersothatshemightraisethesun.Onthosedays,thedarknesslastedalittlelongerthannormal,untilinasuddenmomentthesunracedintothesky,settlingintoamid-morningpositionlikeasheepishfoalwhohopedhertardinesshadnotbeennoticed.
Itwasalwaysnoticed,ofcourse.Butponies,evenfarmerswhoneededthesun,tendedtolovetheirprincessevenmore,andsotheyneverletherknowthatitbotheredthem.Theyjustworkedinthedarksomemornings.
Todaywasnotoneofthosedays.Celestiahadnotsleptthroughheralarm,andthesunrosepreciselywhenthealmanacsaiditwould.Thefarmponiesnoticedthis,noddedapprovingly,andthencastwary,frightenedglancesovertheirshoulders.
Intheheartoftown,theshopkeepersandbusinessponieswereslightlyslowergettingtowork.Businesshourswerenotfarmhours,afterall,andtownponiestendedtoriselaterintheday,notuntilthefirstraysofthesunbrokethroughthewindowstobrightentheirbedrooms.
Today,thoseponieslayinbed,stillbutnotasleep.Theyclutchedthecoverstotheirchestsandstaredattheceilingsorthedoors.Theytriedtobreatheasquietlyaspossible.
Finally,therewerethetown'spegasi,mostofwhomwerestillasleepandhadnointentionofwakinguntilthesunwasclosertonoon.Thefewexceptions–theaforementionedweatherteammembers,whowokeunderprotest,andthetown'sanimalcaretaker,livingoutontheedgeoftheEverfree–wereamongtheonlypegasitherestofthetownwouldseeforhalftheday.
ThusitwasthatthesundawnedonPonyville,onanormal,beautiful,mundanelyperfectlate-springday.Normal,exceptthatitwasalsothefirstdayofsummerbreak.
Thefoalswereloose.Cheerilee'sfreebabysitting-slash-educationalservicesweredoneforthreemonths,andtheschoolteacherherselfwasalreadyhalfwaytoLasPegasus,wherethefirstofmanyheavilysaltedmargaritaswaitedforheronthepooldeck.
Thefoalswereloose.Theyblinkedtheirgummyeyesandtotteredoutofbed,wonderingforafewconfusedmomentswheretheirparentswere,andwhytheywerenotbeinghustledintothebathroomsandofftobreakfastandoutthedoorwithbook-stuffedsaddlebagsandlunchpails.Andthenthelastfogofsleepdriftedaway,andtheyrememberedrunningouttheschoolhousedoors,andtheyshriekedwithjoy.Summer–themagicalpromisedlandofsummer–hadfinallyarrived.
Thefoalswereloose.Andthatwasterrifying.
//------------------------------//
//AppleBloom'sMorning//------------------------------//
AppleBloomwoketoabsolutestillness.
Thefarmhousewasasquietasawinternight.Theoldtimberwalls,usuallyraucouswithcreaksandcracksintheslightestofbreezes,weresilent,asifstillasleepthemselves.Nohoofstepsfromhersisterorbrotherechoedupthestairs,andthefaintmorninglightcreepinginbeneaththecurtaintoldhertheywerealreadyawake,puttingtoresttheday'sfirstchores.Theonlysoundswereherbreathandthefaintthrumofbloodbeatinginherears.
Outside,anearlyrobinwarbledafewtentativenotes.Nothingelseanswered.
Thesilencewasperfect,almostsacred.Someimpulse–theonethatkeptherfromshoutingacrosstheclassroomwhenMs.Cheerileewasalreadyangrywithher–cautionedheragainstspeakingnow.Thepeaceofthemorningwassepulchral,anditdemandedrespect.
“It'ssummer,”shewhisperedintoherpillowcase.
Sheclimbedoutofbed,settingherhoovesdownonthebarewoodfloorasgentlyasifitwereeggshell.Theroomaroundherwaswarmalready,onitswaytocloying,butsheknewbetterthantoopenthewindow.Thatwouldletintheworldoutside,andtheperfectsilencewouldbelosttothewind.Bettertoleavethewindowclosedandtrapthequietwhereshecouldkeepitforlater.
Silencewasrareonafarm.Ifitwasn'ttreatedcarefullyitcouldbreak,justlikethetimeshewasn'tcarefulwithBigMacintosh'scollectionofexoticfruitjamsandpreserves.Butsilencedidn'tturnintoastickymessalloverthecellarfloorandthreeweeksofextrachoreswhenbroken–itwasjustgone,andnomatterhowmuchsheyelledorstompedorcussed,itdidn'tcomeback.Ithadtobeheldgently,likebabyducks,andcovetedforeveryseconditlasted.
Breathingwastooloud,soshestoppedandignoredherburninglungsasshecrossedtheroomtoslipoutintothehallway,closingthebedroomdoorbehindherandsealingthesilenceinside.Itwouldstillbethereattheendoftheday,waitingforher,tolullherofftosleep.
Buttheend ofthedaywashoursandhoursandhoursandhoursandhours fromnow.Shecouldn'tevenconceiveoftheday'send,notwhenthesunhadbarelyyetbrokentheeasternsky,andherfriendshadnotyetarrived,andtheyhadnotmarchedroundtheendlessworldanddoneamillionthings.Whentheyhadnotyettracedtheorchard'srows,hidingbetweenthemoments,searchingforthespotwherethesunstoodstillandeverydaywasthesameastheonebeforeandtheoneafter.Whenthehotbrushofwindontheircoatsdrewouttheirsweatandmeltedtheroughedgesfromthehours,blendingthem,untilmorningandnoonandeveningandnightwereallonememorywithnobeginningtheycouldrememberandnoendtheycouldforesee.Aday–aseason–definedbythesinglethreadthatstitchedthemtogether,thatranthroughthemasthesunrunsthroughthesky:
theboundlessjoythatwasthebreathintheirlungsandthestrengthintheirlimbsandcarriedthemupandoutanddown,downtheendlesspathsofsummer,allofitwaitingjustbeyondherdoor.
“It'ssummer,”shesaidagain,loudernow.Shegrinned,andthestairscreakedbeneathherhoovesasshegallopeddownthemandoutthefarmhousedoor.
“It'ssummer!
”sheshoutedontheporch,startlingacoveyofdovesroostingonthelawn.Shelaughedastheyfilledtheair,andshechasedthemacrossthegrass,downthedirtpathleadingoutthearchedgate,intotheendlessrowsofappletreesbeyond.Throughthemistyorchardssherode,untilherlegsachedandherchestburned,andallthewhileshecouldnotstopgrinninglikeamadmare.
“AJ!
”sheyelled,burstingintoaclearingwherehersistersetoutrowsofemptybaskets.“It'ssummer!
”ShewasgonebeforeApplejackcouldreply.
Sheranagain,vaultingasmallstreamthatmeanderedthroughthetreeslikeatiredsnake.Themuddybankssquelchedbeneathherhoovesasshelanded,andshestoppedlongenoughtostompinthemuckafewextratimes,justbecauseitwassummer,andshecould,andtherewerenoschooldeskstositatorMissCheerileetoscoldherforbeingdirtyorstupidDiamondTiarastomakefunofherbow.Abow,sherealized,thatshewasn'tevenwearing–itwasstillbackinherbedroom,keepingwatchoverthesilence,wrappingrounditlikeagiftforherreturn.
AppleBloomgrinnedandjumpedintothemudagain,splashingitallupherlegsandoverherbelly.Itfeltwonderful.
“It'ssummer!
Ha!
”sheyelledattherustlingtrees.Andthensheransomemore.
Bythetimeshereachedtheedgeoftheorchards,wherethedirtpathbecameatrueroadleadingdownthewaytoPonyville,shewasexhausted.Strandsofhermaneplasteredthemselvesagainstherstickycoat,herlegsshook,andherbreathwastheloudestsoundonallthefarm.
Andshecouldn'tstopsmiling.
Shewasn'tquitesurewhattimeitwas.Clock-time,thatis–sheknewitwasaboutthirtyminutespastsunrise,andinanotherhourthesunwouldbewellclearofthetrees,andjuststandingoutsideinitsrayswouldburnthesweatfromhercoatandsendherscurryingforwaterorshade.Inthesummer,thesunstayedupforever,andlunchwasforeverfaraway,anddinnerforeverfurther.Thesunwas thesummer,andsheworshipeditbecauseshelovedtheprincesslikeagoodlittlefilly,butmostlybecausethesunwassummerandsummerwasfreedomandohCelestiahowshelovedthat.
Applejackwasn'taroundtostopher,soshedroppedtothegroundandrolledaroundinthedirt,kickingupgreatcloudsofdustthatclungtohercoat,turningherduntomatchthemudonherlegsandbelly,easingtheitchofdryingsweatandticklinghernose.Shesneezedafewtimesandlaughedatthecloudofdustitproduced.
Timepassed,andshewastedit,loungingonthedirtroad.Backonthefarm,wastingtimewasacrime–ifApplejackorGrannycaughtherdoingnothing,she'dhaveanotherday'sworthofchoresdroppedonhershouldersinaflash.Bu
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