First Breath After ComaIt was on a fleeting momentAseptic white wallsReappeared all around meSole companion to my earsAbsolute silencePale light shining through the windowMuch like sleeping beauty, I laySurroundedBy cold mechanical entitiesA sting in my left armSmelling the scent of nowhereSavouring pure absenceOf everything I had ever seenAnd then it came back, like a dreamA merry-go-roundPeople, faces, smilesSpring and summer daysSeemed so close, yet distantToo long had I been suspendedIn my sleep without nightmaresTo believe it was really coming to an end -Inhale, exhale, I won't forgetThe feeling of oxygen filling my lungsTrembleI wish I could be back on my feet right nowTorpor slowly fading awayReplaced by hunger and thirstAs I battle against my apathyI'm tired, so tiredBut the first step's been takenAnd I've never been more sureOf being awakeAll of my ribs ache, pain rages my bodyFrom top to toeAnd I'm glad of thisAwakeningFirst breath after coma.
Five Out of Five Ponies Who Read Drink TeaSpike walked into Mare Cranston's, a small, quiet building with a quaint wood motif and cozy lighting that gave just the right ambiance to its shelves, which were filled with a wide variety of teas both common and exotic. The shop was known for carrying obscure, unpopular, or otherwise difficult-to-find brands, and it was the only store in Canterlot- or, indeed, within a one-hundred mile radius of Ponyville- to sell Twilight's favorite tea, an odd blend called Old Grey whose taste would best be described as bookish if "bookish" were a word one could reasonably apply to beverages.Spike walked up to the shop's counter and waved at its cashier, a lanky colt with a dull orange coat. "Hey, Leaves. I'm just gonna grab a couple boxes of Old Grey, alright?""No can do, Spike," Tea Leaves said, shaking his head. "We're all sold out.""Sold out?" Spike said, giving the salescolt an incredulous look. "Don't be ridiculous. We both know I'm th
Feminism in Fairy Tales Feminism in Fairy Tales "Once upon a time..." fairy tales were not what they have become today. Today, when the term "fairy tale" is mentioned, it conjures up images of children's stories filled with magic and fantasy, always leading toward a happily-ever-after ending. But this is not what fairy tales were originally. Stories that are now commonly referred to as fairy tales were once not even written stories. In their early incarnations, they were spoken tales that were passed down from generation to generation, usually among the women of a family. The term "fairy tale" is derived from the French term conte de fées, which was coined to describe a collection of 17th-century tales written for adults. But even before the stories were collected and published in the 16th and 17th centuries, many of them had already become well known throughout the world as spoken stories, what are now considered folk t