Manehattan Motions
by Flashgen
“This town is going to be the end of me.”
I’d said it to myself so many times in the past; Bridleshire was a comfortable, safe enough place to grow up, but it had grown small, suffocatingly so. There wasn’t anything to do there, nopony new ever came into town, and change happened as fast as “a snail in molasses,” as Papa used to say. What was I supposed to do other than leave, and find somewhere that I could make something of myself? What better place was there to try than the biggest city in Equestria?
Who knew that Manehattan could feel even worse.
“This city is going to be the end of me,” I thought as my alarm woke me from another dreamless night of sleep. I rolled over and groggily slapped it off. It was only the first of several in a line that only the last and loudest would signal the true danger of sleeping in. It felt like seconds later than the blaring riff of a rock song came on, jolting me out of the warmth of my covers.
I dragged myself out of bed, through a shower, and then into the kitchen, as I’d done every day for the past few months; the only change had been the time and my eventual destination. There was only enough time to grab a piece of toast and the ripest apple still on the counter before I headed out the door.
For a city so massive, Manehattan started to feel smaller the more I stuck to my routine. It was one block south and three blocks west to Pearly Whites’ campaign office, though if I had the time I would have ventured a block further south to grab coffee. I passed throngs of ponies on the way, but the number of times I’d said a word to any of them wouldn’t number more than a dozen.
At the final crosswalk before the office, I tapped my hoof impatiently, finishing off the last bit of toast before galloping across the road and inside. It was a hive of activity, workers zipping back and forth like bees and directors and sub-directors barking orders. It reminded me of applebuck season on the orchard, even if there were more ponies in the room than had ever stepped hoof in Bridleshire.
“Honeycrisp!” I heard my name shouted, and instantly knew that the light had cost me those precious seconds. I shuffled off to the side, out of the way of a few interns as I waited for my scolding.
Notary Script cut an imposing figure as she trotted across the office, workers stepping back like a parted sea. She kept her head held high, the sharp half-frames of her glasses angled just enough that their black tops made her appear in a permanent scowl. She took a moment, after stopping in front of me, to levitate up a clipboard and adjust a grey bang out of her face as she reviewed her list.
“I’m s—”
“You’re late,” she stated, cutting me off. “By—” she spared only a half-second glance at a clock “—two minutes. I suppose that is ‘better’ than your average.” She scribbled a few notes with a pen before turning away. She turned and walked away, and I instinctually followed, taking a bit out of my apple as she walked. “You’re on canvassing today. From Slick Saddle Avenue t—”
It took my brain a bit longer to process, and I choked on my bite. “What? I thought I was on phones for the week.”
Even among the cacophony of the office, I could hear the heavy scribbles she made. “That was until both Hearty Scales and Minute Mine called out sick, and your numbers were the lowest on the list.” It only took seconds for us to end up at the canvassing station, filled with brochures and lists of residencies. She picked up a list from one of the stacks, several brochures from the pile, and put them together with a paperclip.
She waited until I took it from her to turn and scan the room, looking for her next victim. “Do try and get as much done today as you can. Golden Glow!” she shouted as she ran off.
I looked down at the list and sighed.
“Hello, would you have a minute to talk about P—” The door closed before I heard the muffled “no, thank you” from the pony that had answered it.
I hated canvassing. Nopony liked to be bothered, but at least when you were doing it on the phone they couldn’t slam a door in your face. I took a moment to mark off the address on the list before walking down the steps. I was three hours in and I hadn’t even gotten to say the stallion’s name.
Pearly White; I had been off the job for about a week when I heard about his campaign. I had chanced into the outskirts of a rally, just inside the park near my apartment, close enough to hear the middle of his speech. He was running for governor of Manehattan’s province after having served as a local leader in one of the other districts. He promised change, progress, a better future for Manehattan and even Equestria.
It’s silly to say, but it lit a spark in me. It was something I could do, change I could be a part of. It could finally be the direction I needed.
And then I’d spent the last two months being shifted around between departments and rolls. A week on one task seemed to be the best I could hope for. But even if I felt listless, I was still being a part of something.
It brought some warmth into my chest as I stepped up to the next door and knocked. I put on my best smile as I heard the lock click.
“Hello, would you have a minute to talk about Pearly Whites’ campaign for governor of the province of Manehattan?” I thought I was in a dream; I managed to get it all out.
The pegasus mare who answered the door had a dark purple coat and wore her mane draped over the left side of her face. It looked dyed, with streaks of silver, neon yellow, bold green and white in alternating patterns across it. She took a moment to look me up and down, though it felt far longer. “Seriously?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped. I had expected a no, to which I could reply with a “thank you for your time.” I had expected a yes, to which I could continue with the pitch. Instead, I was left stunned. “W-what?” I managed to blurt out.
She shifted on her front legs, leaning against the door. “Are you seriously out campaigning for that rat? I can’t believe there are still suckers buying into him…”
For the first time in months, I felt that fire in my chest again. “Pearly White has a record of doing the best for the communities he’s been elected to serve. He’s promised to make changes that’ll make Manehattan a better place for everypony! And he has concrete plans that Marble Mint hasn’t been able to pr—”
“You can cut the canned spiel, sister. I know what that little weasel is about well enough already. Not like there’s ever a good candidate in this city, but anypony is better than him.” She moved back from the door and closed it.
Before I even knew I was moving, I had stopped it with my hoof. “He’s trying to do something for all of us. Have you actually read his policies? New parks, new industry, revitalizing old landmarks a—”
“And lining his big donors saddlebags every step of the way,” she spat, rolling her eyes. “That big smile of his is as fake as his stupid name. I’m not interested… and you should think twice about who you’re helping.”
“Wait,” was all I could get out before she’d pushed me away and shut the door. The lock clicked loudly as a period to the conversation. Turning away and walking down the steps, I stared at the address on the form. Instead of checking if off, I flipped to one of the brochures. Pearly Whites’ wide smile was emblazoned next to slogans and promises.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” I muttered to myself as I headed to the next address.
I slammed my hoof down on the alarm clock as the first of several rang out, pulling myself out of bed. The others rang as I rushed through my shower and out the door with only an apple from the counter. It had been like this for weeks, this new fire rekindled in me. I galloped through the streets to Pearly Whites’ campaign office, the core of my apple dropped in a bin by the entrance before I rushed in and found the first thing I could think to work on.
Notary Script’s tone had taken a sharp turn over those weeks. I even heard a hint of cheer as she greeted me. “Honeycrisp, good to see you today. You’ll be on records.” She led me to the back of the offices, scribbling as she went. Opening a door to a back room, there were piles of documents: canvassing forms, phone records, finance reports. “Just get what isn’t filed away sorted. Everything should be by date and then alphabetical, labels are on the drawers”
With that I was left alone. It wasn’t good work, like the impassioned phone calls and canvassing I’d done since meeting that mare, but it was something and I set myself to it. Before I knew it the day was at its end, with still more records left to put away.
The door opened, Notary Script peeking her head in. “Honeycrisp? I’m getting ready to close up.”
“I can do it,” she said, the remaining pile not daunting enough to take more than an hour.
“You’re sure?”
Something was still nagging at the back of my mind. I nodded and hummed.
She left the keys on top of a cabinet by the door and left.
I had the focus to do what I was supposed to, get the records put away, but then I noticed that some of the cabinets went back before the governor campaign started, before I’d arrived in Manehattan. I flipped through them, scanning the pages for names that stuck out. There wa the random pony here and there, donating a hoofful of bits that they could spare, but then I saw the bigger numbers, the names that stuck out.
I picked up one of the brochures, the one that covered Pearly Whites’ previous successes. So many names matched up, big businesses that helped break foundations on new parks and new industries.
As I left and locked the door, I felt those embers dying out.
I walked the streets for a while, just picking some direction to go in. I didn’t want to go home, it felt like I’d be trapped there if I did, forced to come back the next day. I could stop, quit, but I needed the job, needed to do something with my life.
“Hey, sister.” The voice cut through the haze in my mind. “You’re not looking so chipper.”
I stopped and turned. There she was, that mare that had managed to ignite the fire in me and then give me the doubt to snuff it out. I didn’t know what to say, but I said it anyway. “Are you happy? Are you happy you broke the one thing I had going for me, the one thing that let me feel like I was doing something?!"
"Woah, calm down, si—"
"Stop calling me that! I don't even know you, and you just, you just ruined me. Why?!"
She held her hoof up, and lifted up into the air, just enough to hover in front of me. "I'm Melody."
Still shaking with rage, I bit it back and shook her hoof. "Honeycrisp."
"There, now we know each other. I'm sorry if I broke your flow or whatever, Honeycrisp, but that weasel is no good, and from how angry you are at me, you know it, don't you?"
I nodded.
"So you're wandering looking for what to do now?"
I nodded.
"Trying to find direction. I get it, it sucks to want to do something and find out it's not what you wanted. I was there before. I could tell you what I did, but that's not going to help you. So... just... take a bit to think about it. That's the best I can say."
Someone called to her from an open door and she waved. "I've gotten jet, but you'll find your way. I promise."
As she left, I was left alone. I had wanted to make a difference... and I think I knew how I finally could.
I’d said it to myself so many times in the past; Bridleshire was a comfortable, safe enough place to grow up, but it had grown small, suffocatingly so. There wasn’t anything to do there, nopony new ever came into town, and change happened as fast as “a snail in molasses,” as Papa used to say. What was I supposed to do other than leave, and find somewhere that I could make something of myself? What better place was there to try than the biggest city in Equestria?
Who knew that Manehattan could feel even worse.
“This city is going to be the end of me,” I thought as my alarm woke me from another dreamless night of sleep. I rolled over and groggily slapped it off. It was only the first of several in a line that only the last and loudest would signal the true danger of sleeping in. It felt like seconds later than the blaring riff of a rock song came on, jolting me out of the warmth of my covers.
I dragged myself out of bed, through a shower, and then into the kitchen, as I’d done every day for the past few months; the only change had been the time and my eventual destination. There was only enough time to grab a piece of toast and the ripest apple still on the counter before I headed out the door.
For a city so massive, Manehattan started to feel smaller the more I stuck to my routine. It was one block south and three blocks west to Pearly Whites’ campaign office, though if I had the time I would have ventured a block further south to grab coffee. I passed throngs of ponies on the way, but the number of times I’d said a word to any of them wouldn’t number more than a dozen.
At the final crosswalk before the office, I tapped my hoof impatiently, finishing off the last bit of toast before galloping across the road and inside. It was a hive of activity, workers zipping back and forth like bees and directors and sub-directors barking orders. It reminded me of applebuck season on the orchard, even if there were more ponies in the room than had ever stepped hoof in Bridleshire.
“Honeycrisp!” I heard my name shouted, and instantly knew that the light had cost me those precious seconds. I shuffled off to the side, out of the way of a few interns as I waited for my scolding.
Notary Script cut an imposing figure as she trotted across the office, workers stepping back like a parted sea. She kept her head held high, the sharp half-frames of her glasses angled just enough that their black tops made her appear in a permanent scowl. She took a moment, after stopping in front of me, to levitate up a clipboard and adjust a grey bang out of her face as she reviewed her list.
“I’m s—”
“You’re late,” she stated, cutting me off. “By—” she spared only a half-second glance at a clock “—two minutes. I suppose that is ‘better’ than your average.” She scribbled a few notes with a pen before turning away. She turned and walked away, and I instinctually followed, taking a bit out of my apple as she walked. “You’re on canvassing today. From Slick Saddle Avenue t—”
It took my brain a bit longer to process, and I choked on my bite. “What? I thought I was on phones for the week.”
Even among the cacophony of the office, I could hear the heavy scribbles she made. “That was until both Hearty Scales and Minute Mine called out sick, and your numbers were the lowest on the list.” It only took seconds for us to end up at the canvassing station, filled with brochures and lists of residencies. She picked up a list from one of the stacks, several brochures from the pile, and put them together with a paperclip.
She waited until I took it from her to turn and scan the room, looking for her next victim. “Do try and get as much done today as you can. Golden Glow!” she shouted as she ran off.
I looked down at the list and sighed.
“Hello, would you have a minute to talk about P—” The door closed before I heard the muffled “no, thank you” from the pony that had answered it.
I hated canvassing. Nopony liked to be bothered, but at least when you were doing it on the phone they couldn’t slam a door in your face. I took a moment to mark off the address on the list before walking down the steps. I was three hours in and I hadn’t even gotten to say the stallion’s name.
Pearly White; I had been off the job for about a week when I heard about his campaign. I had chanced into the outskirts of a rally, just inside the park near my apartment, close enough to hear the middle of his speech. He was running for governor of Manehattan’s province after having served as a local leader in one of the other districts. He promised change, progress, a better future for Manehattan and even Equestria.
It’s silly to say, but it lit a spark in me. It was something I could do, change I could be a part of. It could finally be the direction I needed.
And then I’d spent the last two months being shifted around between departments and rolls. A week on one task seemed to be the best I could hope for. But even if I felt listless, I was still being a part of something.
It brought some warmth into my chest as I stepped up to the next door and knocked. I put on my best smile as I heard the lock click.
“Hello, would you have a minute to talk about Pearly Whites’ campaign for governor of the province of Manehattan?” I thought I was in a dream; I managed to get it all out.
The pegasus mare who answered the door had a dark purple coat and wore her mane draped over the left side of her face. It looked dyed, with streaks of silver, neon yellow, bold green and white in alternating patterns across it. She took a moment to look me up and down, though it felt far longer. “Seriously?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped. I had expected a no, to which I could reply with a “thank you for your time.” I had expected a yes, to which I could continue with the pitch. Instead, I was left stunned. “W-what?” I managed to blurt out.
She shifted on her front legs, leaning against the door. “Are you seriously out campaigning for that rat? I can’t believe there are still suckers buying into him…”
For the first time in months, I felt that fire in my chest again. “Pearly White has a record of doing the best for the communities he’s been elected to serve. He’s promised to make changes that’ll make Manehattan a better place for everypony! And he has concrete plans that Marble Mint hasn’t been able to pr—”
“You can cut the canned spiel, sister. I know what that little weasel is about well enough already. Not like there’s ever a good candidate in this city, but anypony is better than him.” She moved back from the door and closed it.
Before I even knew I was moving, I had stopped it with my hoof. “He’s trying to do something for all of us. Have you actually read his policies? New parks, new industry, revitalizing old landmarks a—”
“And lining his big donors saddlebags every step of the way,” she spat, rolling her eyes. “That big smile of his is as fake as his stupid name. I’m not interested… and you should think twice about who you’re helping.”
“Wait,” was all I could get out before she’d pushed me away and shut the door. The lock clicked loudly as a period to the conversation. Turning away and walking down the steps, I stared at the address on the form. Instead of checking if off, I flipped to one of the brochures. Pearly Whites’ wide smile was emblazoned next to slogans and promises.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” I muttered to myself as I headed to the next address.
I slammed my hoof down on the alarm clock as the first of several rang out, pulling myself out of bed. The others rang as I rushed through my shower and out the door with only an apple from the counter. It had been like this for weeks, this new fire rekindled in me. I galloped through the streets to Pearly Whites’ campaign office, the core of my apple dropped in a bin by the entrance before I rushed in and found the first thing I could think to work on.
Notary Script’s tone had taken a sharp turn over those weeks. I even heard a hint of cheer as she greeted me. “Honeycrisp, good to see you today. You’ll be on records.” She led me to the back of the offices, scribbling as she went. Opening a door to a back room, there were piles of documents: canvassing forms, phone records, finance reports. “Just get what isn’t filed away sorted. Everything should be by date and then alphabetical, labels are on the drawers”
With that I was left alone. It wasn’t good work, like the impassioned phone calls and canvassing I’d done since meeting that mare, but it was something and I set myself to it. Before I knew it the day was at its end, with still more records left to put away.
The door opened, Notary Script peeking her head in. “Honeycrisp? I’m getting ready to close up.”
“I can do it,” she said, the remaining pile not daunting enough to take more than an hour.
“You’re sure?”
Something was still nagging at the back of my mind. I nodded and hummed.
She left the keys on top of a cabinet by the door and left.
I had the focus to do what I was supposed to, get the records put away, but then I noticed that some of the cabinets went back before the governor campaign started, before I’d arrived in Manehattan. I flipped through them, scanning the pages for names that stuck out. There wa the random pony here and there, donating a hoofful of bits that they could spare, but then I saw the bigger numbers, the names that stuck out.
I picked up one of the brochures, the one that covered Pearly Whites’ previous successes. So many names matched up, big businesses that helped break foundations on new parks and new industries.
As I left and locked the door, I felt those embers dying out.
I walked the streets for a while, just picking some direction to go in. I didn’t want to go home, it felt like I’d be trapped there if I did, forced to come back the next day. I could stop, quit, but I needed the job, needed to do something with my life.
“Hey, sister.” The voice cut through the haze in my mind. “You’re not looking so chipper.”
I stopped and turned. There she was, that mare that had managed to ignite the fire in me and then give me the doubt to snuff it out. I didn’t know what to say, but I said it anyway. “Are you happy? Are you happy you broke the one thing I had going for me, the one thing that let me feel like I was doing something?!"
"Woah, calm down, si—"
"Stop calling me that! I don't even know you, and you just, you just ruined me. Why?!"
She held her hoof up, and lifted up into the air, just enough to hover in front of me. "I'm Melody."
Still shaking with rage, I bit it back and shook her hoof. "Honeycrisp."
"There, now we know each other. I'm sorry if I broke your flow or whatever, Honeycrisp, but that weasel is no good, and from how angry you are at me, you know it, don't you?"
I nodded.
"So you're wandering looking for what to do now?"
I nodded.
"Trying to find direction. I get it, it sucks to want to do something and find out it's not what you wanted. I was there before. I could tell you what I did, but that's not going to help you. So... just... take a bit to think about it. That's the best I can say."
Someone called to her from an open door and she waved. "I've gotten jet, but you'll find your way. I promise."
As she left, I was left alone. I had wanted to make a difference... and I think I knew how I finally could.