Here is a short peek at the beginning of what I'm working on right now. It is going to be a memoir of Trixie, about the period of her childhood that shaped her into the Trixie we know in MLP:FiM. More will come tomorrow. --- “You don’t have any relatives that can take care of him?” “No, Mr. Knicky, but-” “I can’t have him here anymore. I can’t watch him all the time, Trixie, he’s too much of a burden to have at a bustling business. I can help you find an alternative, but this is a coffee shop, not a day care.” Trixie sighed and looked to the front of the empty cafe where her older brother sat in front of the windows, watching the rain pelt against the cobblestones outside. “What am I going to do with him?” She asked herself quietly. “You’re still in school, Trixie, and much too young to be handling this all by yourself. It is time we find proper care for him.” “I don’t want him to go anywhere, Mr. Knicky.” “Wherever he finds help, I’m sure he’ll be fine; he won’t be alone.” “No, I don’t want to be alone. He might have half a brain, but he’s the best friend I have.” Mr. Knicky diverted his eyes from Trixie and stared aimlessly at a jar of biscuits. “I would have tolerated this if you parents were still here, but I can’t let this ruin your life. There’s already a rumor around that you’ve become a grifter, using your magic to swindle tourists and what not.” “That’s just a nasty rumor!” Trixie squealed weakly. Mr. Knicky looked back at Trixie evenly. “Whatever. How are you doing in school?” “Just fine,” Trixie mumbled, “I’m doing just fine.” “Your teacher would say so?” “This isn’t your business!” Trixie had begun to sob. Her brother looked around towards the two of them. Trixie smiled as she caught his glance. “Mr. Knicky, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said as she began to walk to the door. “We will figure this out Trixie.” “Yeah,” she sighed, “I hope we do.” Trixie smiled at her brother as she approached. “Ready to go on home, Trumpets?” “Yes, Trixie. What were you and Joe talking about?” “It’s Mr. Knicky, Trumpets, remember to say that.” “Father always called him Joe.” Trixie paused and looked back at her brother as they walked out into the rain, but she couldn’t gather the words she wanted to say. After a moment¸ she smiled and walked on through the rain.
