1st September 1903.
I struggle to keep these pages dry under these conditions, and the periodic shifting and rumbling doesn't help when there's no real surface to use as a desk in any meaningful way.
It wasn't long after I left the artilleryman that I felt myself succumbing to a dreadful sense of loneliness. Walking past Sloane Square I saw almost every single building in the area had their roofs torn clean off, though the lack of hoof-prints suggested that the invaders had reached out to them from another route; Victoria station stood alone amongst the ruins as a forgotten monument to the industrial prowess we once knew. It was round here that I had my first encounter with another man, who responded to my efforts to offer assistance with a fierce ranting as he made ineffectual swings with his fists, so I had to leave him despite the solitude that consumed me.
Buckingham Palace and the Palace of Westminster both stood tall, but their pride had faded and I could make out some suggestion of a hole in the roof of the House of Lords. In Covent Garden I managed to procure some provisions from a few shops and warehouses that had clearly been ransacked some time back; I do not know why any of the looters left so much passable food but I wasn't in any position to complain. Going towards Russell Square I came upon the façade of a jewellery shop where a mass of golden chains and pocket watches lay scattered upon the pavement, which I looked at with as much interest as I would've once bestowed on a paving slab for my garden path. It was at this time that I truly comprehended the arbitrary nature of monetary wealth, which compounded the quiet isolation I felt in these streets.
I was near Chancery Lane when I heard the first signs of life. I distant whistle from the North-West that made me start with a strange sense of hope, not for our civilisation holding out or coming back but of the prospect of company, no matter how they'd respond to me. It was a siren's call, drawing me in as I craved relief from the weariness, the aching in my feet, the fact that I had been living on stale food, but most of all the complete lack of someone to talk to. I heard a few more of these whistles, which were so distinctive I could barely believe that they might be ponies signalling to one another, but what else could they be when London was lying in state. I came out onto Euston Road and looked upon the station, which seemed to have had the entire canopy over the platforms torn off while the frontage remained untouched. Giant hoof-prints spread out on either side, seeming to stretch off towards Islington, as I now made my way along the streets that came as close as possible to the mainline, looking for any sign of a living being that could account for the periodic whistles like a railway engine.
I had wandered into the northern reaches of Regent's Park and I could see distant puffs of smoke over Primrose Hill, making me start as they looked all too much like the smoke from the chimneys of locomotives. Then I heard for the first time in nigh-on a week the voice of a pony I recognised: Princess Luna.
Her voice was lilted, sounding like an enormous child playing in a cavernous nursery. I couldn't picture how many people were at her mercy, but by that point I didn't care. When I crossed Regent's Canal I heard her say something that I didn't understand as I couldn't see what her words alluded to.
"The train departing platform two is the three fifty-five service direct to Euston." This made no sense to me at the time as I had just seen that the damage done to the station; as to why she seemed to be directing passenger trains I had assumed she was playing with her food, thrusting quantities of innocent people into her mouth like a mother directing a spoon into her infant. Despite the ordinarily grotesque image I wandered closer and closer to where I heard her voice emanating; I was in the grip of a maniacal resolve, determined to throw it all away by giving my life up to her right then. My footsteps became firm as I headed up towards the crest of the hill, hardly thinking of the sounds that didn't correlate with the giant ponies until I saw the shimmering starscape of her mane rise above the trees for a moment. I began to hurry along the pathway, any feeling of fear and dread suppressed by an intense exaltation about what was to happen when I came upon her immense form.
Upon reaching the crest of Primrose Hill I stopped and gaped at the scene beyond. Princess Luna dominated the view as she sat at the base of the hill with her mane almost replacing the sky above and the same ethereal scene provided by her tail stretched across the most direct route down the other side, but beyond I saw that the Hampstead tunnel had been torn open entirely and, amazingly, a whole new station had been installed. I saw a train rolling off into the distance along a track that wasn't there a month ago, in the distance of which I saw that Fluttershy was calmly sitting and watching over the townscape of eastern Cricklewood. Before I could look along any further stretches of track Luna's voice roared overhead.
"The next train to arrive at platform one will be the four twenty-two service to Ottershaw; calling at Kensington Interchange, Ealing Broadway, Harlington, Ashford, Staines, Stroude, Lyne and Ottershaw. Passengers attending Rainbow Dash's supper are advised to board the coach at the rear of the train, which shall depart the service just after Harlington." I was completely baffled by this at the time, but watched in awed trepidation as she stretched her forelegs and seemed to yawn as she lay back. The impact of her tremendous figure upon the hillside made me stumble forwards, narrowly avoiding a joint in her left limb that rolled over like an elbow as it rested in a position that had her hooves behind her head. Looking up I watched as her eyes blinked slowly; in retrospect I might've wondered if she had inhaled a flock of birds, but it's a moot point now. As she lay there her left eye finally rolled over and fixed its gaze right upon me; we stared at each other for what felt like several minutes, her immense blue-green eye burning my mind with its soft restful charm while my own minute specks looked straight up. I believe I was silently daring her to eat me up while there seemed to be a notable shift in her own eyes as she shifted her head over to bring both of them to bear on my little figure; the childish playfulness that had been the initial impression she emitted was replaced with a strange look of wisdom, like all the knowledge of history had been locked up within her mind, before she then made an expression suggesting a firm resolve while she smiled in a way at seemed like pity at the time.
For the first time ever I was subjected to the levitating effects of a pony's aurora. The blue glow that now engulfed me only seemed to compromise my peripheral vision as Luna's tremendous form lay below me, poised to use me in any way she wanted as I felt a peculiar sense like falling and swimming all at once.
"So, you've finally come." She seemed to be whispering at this time. "I wish I could explain right now, but it's just typical you'd appear during our efforts to rebuild your little rail lines. You know where I'm going to put you, right?" There was a hint of her sticking her tongue out, which I took as a sign that she was feeling hungry and gave a nod. "Okay, just relax and let my body do the work. There's a little someone who will be overjoyed to see you in here." I couldn't see what she was doing but I noticed that she had taken her forehooves out from behind her head, so I figured that she was rubbing her belly. I saw her great mouth open wide, the tongue rolling out like this was a red letter day, the teeth glistening in her saliva and an enormous uvula hung over the dark drop down her throat. This was what I was waiting for and began to pray for a peaceful rest upon all she and her fellow giants would eat, just before I felt the swimming sensation go away suddenly and fell straight upon her tongue.
The clamping of Luna's jaws left me in a dark space reminiscent of the cellar in Sheen, albeit wetter and warmer and softer. I felt myself being rolled all over her tongue, a faint noise like a suppressed murmur of hunger emanated from the deep blackness of her throat before I finally found myself being thrust into the firm embrace of her gullet. The descent was extraordinary; if I hadn't been anticipating certain death I'd have considered it the best massage I had since I went to the Turkish baths. When the descent came to an end I found myself sitting in an undulating mattress that is the lining inside Luna's belly; what struck me the most was the discovery that her lining appears to be glowing with a gentle soft light like a number of table lamps covered in puce lampshades. I lay there, waiting to either faint from a steady depletion of air or to start being burned away by the internal fluids, when I heard a voice call out to me. A voice I had given up on ever hearing again. I sat up as best I could and looked over as my heart leapt at the sight of my wife stumbling and crawling over to me. As she embraced me I gingerly hugged her back, thinking that we could comfort each other in our final moments before she whispered tearfully.
"I knew... I knew you'd come in some day." I was stunned by these words as she added. "I asked the princess if she could bring us back together, but she was firm about making sure you were ready." I was completely blindsided by this statement.
"My dear, dear wife." I responded tearfully. "Are you saying that you've been in here all along?" She broke our embrace and sat up straight before answering.
"It's been two weeks! It's been a strange experience living inside another being, but you'll get used to it." I'll have to hear about this tomorrow.
I struggle to keep these pages dry under these conditions, and the periodic shifting and rumbling doesn't help when there's no real surface to use as a desk in any meaningful way.
It wasn't long after I left the artilleryman that I felt myself succumbing to a dreadful sense of loneliness. Walking past Sloane Square I saw almost every single building in the area had their roofs torn clean off, though the lack of hoof-prints suggested that the invaders had reached out to them from another route; Victoria station stood alone amongst the ruins as a forgotten monument to the industrial prowess we once knew. It was round here that I had my first encounter with another man, who responded to my efforts to offer assistance with a fierce ranting as he made ineffectual swings with his fists, so I had to leave him despite the solitude that consumed me.
Buckingham Palace and the Palace of Westminster both stood tall, but their pride had faded and I could make out some suggestion of a hole in the roof of the House of Lords. In Covent Garden I managed to procure some provisions from a few shops and warehouses that had clearly been ransacked some time back; I do not know why any of the looters left so much passable food but I wasn't in any position to complain. Going towards Russell Square I came upon the façade of a jewellery shop where a mass of golden chains and pocket watches lay scattered upon the pavement, which I looked at with as much interest as I would've once bestowed on a paving slab for my garden path. It was at this time that I truly comprehended the arbitrary nature of monetary wealth, which compounded the quiet isolation I felt in these streets.
I was near Chancery Lane when I heard the first signs of life. I distant whistle from the North-West that made me start with a strange sense of hope, not for our civilisation holding out or coming back but of the prospect of company, no matter how they'd respond to me. It was a siren's call, drawing me in as I craved relief from the weariness, the aching in my feet, the fact that I had been living on stale food, but most of all the complete lack of someone to talk to. I heard a few more of these whistles, which were so distinctive I could barely believe that they might be ponies signalling to one another, but what else could they be when London was lying in state. I came out onto Euston Road and looked upon the station, which seemed to have had the entire canopy over the platforms torn off while the frontage remained untouched. Giant hoof-prints spread out on either side, seeming to stretch off towards Islington, as I now made my way along the streets that came as close as possible to the mainline, looking for any sign of a living being that could account for the periodic whistles like a railway engine.
I had wandered into the northern reaches of Regent's Park and I could see distant puffs of smoke over Primrose Hill, making me start as they looked all too much like the smoke from the chimneys of locomotives. Then I heard for the first time in nigh-on a week the voice of a pony I recognised: Princess Luna.
Her voice was lilted, sounding like an enormous child playing in a cavernous nursery. I couldn't picture how many people were at her mercy, but by that point I didn't care. When I crossed Regent's Canal I heard her say something that I didn't understand as I couldn't see what her words alluded to.
"The train departing platform two is the three fifty-five service direct to Euston." This made no sense to me at the time as I had just seen that the damage done to the station; as to why she seemed to be directing passenger trains I had assumed she was playing with her food, thrusting quantities of innocent people into her mouth like a mother directing a spoon into her infant. Despite the ordinarily grotesque image I wandered closer and closer to where I heard her voice emanating; I was in the grip of a maniacal resolve, determined to throw it all away by giving my life up to her right then. My footsteps became firm as I headed up towards the crest of the hill, hardly thinking of the sounds that didn't correlate with the giant ponies until I saw the shimmering starscape of her mane rise above the trees for a moment. I began to hurry along the pathway, any feeling of fear and dread suppressed by an intense exaltation about what was to happen when I came upon her immense form.
Upon reaching the crest of Primrose Hill I stopped and gaped at the scene beyond. Princess Luna dominated the view as she sat at the base of the hill with her mane almost replacing the sky above and the same ethereal scene provided by her tail stretched across the most direct route down the other side, but beyond I saw that the Hampstead tunnel had been torn open entirely and, amazingly, a whole new station had been installed. I saw a train rolling off into the distance along a track that wasn't there a month ago, in the distance of which I saw that Fluttershy was calmly sitting and watching over the townscape of eastern Cricklewood. Before I could look along any further stretches of track Luna's voice roared overhead.
"The next train to arrive at platform one will be the four twenty-two service to Ottershaw; calling at Kensington Interchange, Ealing Broadway, Harlington, Ashford, Staines, Stroude, Lyne and Ottershaw. Passengers attending Rainbow Dash's supper are advised to board the coach at the rear of the train, which shall depart the service just after Harlington." I was completely baffled by this at the time, but watched in awed trepidation as she stretched her forelegs and seemed to yawn as she lay back. The impact of her tremendous figure upon the hillside made me stumble forwards, narrowly avoiding a joint in her left limb that rolled over like an elbow as it rested in a position that had her hooves behind her head. Looking up I watched as her eyes blinked slowly; in retrospect I might've wondered if she had inhaled a flock of birds, but it's a moot point now. As she lay there her left eye finally rolled over and fixed its gaze right upon me; we stared at each other for what felt like several minutes, her immense blue-green eye burning my mind with its soft restful charm while my own minute specks looked straight up. I believe I was silently daring her to eat me up while there seemed to be a notable shift in her own eyes as she shifted her head over to bring both of them to bear on my little figure; the childish playfulness that had been the initial impression she emitted was replaced with a strange look of wisdom, like all the knowledge of history had been locked up within her mind, before she then made an expression suggesting a firm resolve while she smiled in a way at seemed like pity at the time.
For the first time ever I was subjected to the levitating effects of a pony's aurora. The blue glow that now engulfed me only seemed to compromise my peripheral vision as Luna's tremendous form lay below me, poised to use me in any way she wanted as I felt a peculiar sense like falling and swimming all at once.
"So, you've finally come." She seemed to be whispering at this time. "I wish I could explain right now, but it's just typical you'd appear during our efforts to rebuild your little rail lines. You know where I'm going to put you, right?" There was a hint of her sticking her tongue out, which I took as a sign that she was feeling hungry and gave a nod. "Okay, just relax and let my body do the work. There's a little someone who will be overjoyed to see you in here." I couldn't see what she was doing but I noticed that she had taken her forehooves out from behind her head, so I figured that she was rubbing her belly. I saw her great mouth open wide, the tongue rolling out like this was a red letter day, the teeth glistening in her saliva and an enormous uvula hung over the dark drop down her throat. This was what I was waiting for and began to pray for a peaceful rest upon all she and her fellow giants would eat, just before I felt the swimming sensation go away suddenly and fell straight upon her tongue.
The clamping of Luna's jaws left me in a dark space reminiscent of the cellar in Sheen, albeit wetter and warmer and softer. I felt myself being rolled all over her tongue, a faint noise like a suppressed murmur of hunger emanated from the deep blackness of her throat before I finally found myself being thrust into the firm embrace of her gullet. The descent was extraordinary; if I hadn't been anticipating certain death I'd have considered it the best massage I had since I went to the Turkish baths. When the descent came to an end I found myself sitting in an undulating mattress that is the lining inside Luna's belly; what struck me the most was the discovery that her lining appears to be glowing with a gentle soft light like a number of table lamps covered in puce lampshades. I lay there, waiting to either faint from a steady depletion of air or to start being burned away by the internal fluids, when I heard a voice call out to me. A voice I had given up on ever hearing again. I sat up as best I could and looked over as my heart leapt at the sight of my wife stumbling and crawling over to me. As she embraced me I gingerly hugged her back, thinking that we could comfort each other in our final moments before she whispered tearfully.
"I knew... I knew you'd come in some day." I was stunned by these words as she added. "I asked the princess if she could bring us back together, but she was firm about making sure you were ready." I was completely blindsided by this statement.
"My dear, dear wife." I responded tearfully. "Are you saying that you've been in here all along?" She broke our embrace and sat up straight before answering.
"It's been two weeks! It's been a strange experience living inside another being, but you'll get used to it." I'll have to hear about this tomorrow.
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April 19
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