Shared pain is lessened.Shared joy is increased.Thus we refute entropy.The words stood on a blackboard, occupying no place of importance. Other sayings, some profound, some flippant, others just going for a particularly bad pun, surrounded it, sometimes crowding it, others swam around at a leisurely distance, but there was something about it that said, quietly, that if Everything was erased - not merely everything, but Everything - those would have been the words that mattered. Tucked behind a treeline along the highway leading from Manehattan towards Canterlot stood a bar, outwardly as ordinary as any. The stained-glass windows reflected the low late-afternoon sun, throwing colorful patterns at the small parking lot leading up to the building. A little bit later, a pudgy brown earth pony came up to the door at the pace of familiarity. Taking out a set of keys, he unlocked the door, brushing a hoof along the side of the door as he entered and locked it again behind him. Lights came up a few moments later, followed by the sounds of chairs being put down, glasses being cleaned and other, less identifiable ones. Ten minutes or so later, the doors unlocked and the pony stepped out. He took a deep breath of the slowly cooling air, savored the day, with all its wonderful possibilities.Crosswood's was open.
Last update on February 25, 9:42 pm by Quinch.
