>>28117948“She’s a horse!” Rachel blurted out, outrage mixing in with her confusion. “You’re dumping me for a
horse!”
“Pony,” Anon corrected matter-of-factly. “But yes, I’m dumping you for a pony.”
He drummed his fingers against his legs in the way that he always did when he was nervous.
"...You can keep everything in the kitchen, and the bed if you want."
He was drumming Yankee Doodle Dandy like he always did.
"And I know you like the TV too so you can have that if you want, but I kinda want the futon if you don't mind. And I'd REALLY appreciate it if I could have the fridge too?..."
The question hung in the air for a few moments as Rachel stared at him. She waited for him to hop off the futon and start laughing. He’d say that he was kidding. He’d show her that the pony regally sitting on the futon was some sort of puppet. She’d yell at him, he’d start laughing like the dummy he was, and, for some reason or another, she’d start laughing too.
But the laughter never came and, though she tried her hardest to look for them, she couldn’t find any strings above or around the pony. As far as she could tell the rise and fall of the pony’s chest, the blinking of its eyes, the small movements in its wings were real. She actually had a talking, horned, winged pony, who was the size of a Great Dane, sitting on her futon. And said pony had, somehow, taken her boyfriend from her.
Rachel opened her mouth. She then closed it as both Anon and the pony looked at her expectantly. “That’s a horse, Anon,” she finally, flatly said. “You know that that’s a horse right?”
“I’m very aware that she’s a pony, yes,” Anon said with a confident nod.
Rachel nodded in turn. There was still no laughter, no joke. As far as she could tell this… whatever it was, was really happening.
