>You are Anon.
>Today is Friday, Friday morning, to be exact.
>You stand in front of the mirror, inspecting your face yet again to admire your handiwork- having shaved your jungle of a beard due to company hygiene policies, since you’ll be on company property later today.
>Looking more like the photo on your ID and less of a hobo would probably be helpful as well.
>You breathe a heavy sigh.
>Rosie’s been having nightmares all week, and they only seem to be getting more intense. She hasn’t been thrashing around as much but she’s begun muttering in her sleep, even woken up screaming once.
>To say that the rising feeling of urgency was making you wish that you could end this day faster would be an understatement. But taking off now would likely make you look suspicious, given you never take time off.
>Glancing at your watch, you guess it’s time to check on Rosie to see if she’s awake yet. You take a generous handful of gel and slick your hair back, washing the remainder of it off before reaching for the door.
>Soon as you open the door though, she’s already standing there.
>Her head raises to look at you, causing her messy mane to cover one of her eyes. They look distant and glassy.
>Those wine-colored eyes of hers suddenly focus on you and she simply says, “Am I still asleep?”
In an attempt to lift her mood you give a half-smirk and respond, “A quick shave and I’m dreamy now? If only I’d have known sooner it’d be that easy.”
>Her expression is unmoving as you silently kick yourself. “I am not in the mood for jests or gibes, Anon.”
Your smirk drops, “Nightmare again?”
>She gives a slow nod followed by, “M-hm.”
“Hopefully they can do something about them at wherever this address takes us,” you sigh, “I guess you want to take a bath so I’ll get out of your way.”
You maneuver around her as she steps in, then close the door behind her, “I’ll leave you to it then, gonna get breakfast cooking and start up a show for you in the meantime.”
>A muffled, “Okay,” comes from the other side of the door.
>Luckily you managed to rig up something so that she could draw up the bath herself; you’ve slowly been making the house more “pony-friendly” over the course of this week. Little things like changing out the handles on the doors so that she can press down on them to open them.
>As much as you hate leaving Rosie alone in case something happens again, you’re sure she appreciates you not having to do everything for her.
>Scanning your library of DVDs, you stop on one of your old favorites and pop the disc in for her.
>You head into the kitchen and set some water to boil as the previews play, oatmeal’s quick and easy and Rosie seems to like it. Maple and brown sugar for you, apples and cinnamon for Rosie.
>Girl seems to have a real sweet tooth, hell, seems like the only time you can get her to smile is if you give her something sweet.
>Another sigh escapes your lips as you set the two bowls out to cool, you should probably treat her to something after you leave wherever that address leads to; maybe IHOP or Waffle House?
>Speaking of which, you should probably look the address up.
>Taking the paper off of the island, you type the address into your phone. It brings up what looks like a factory of some kind, clearly too big for it to have been built recently.
“Great, right on the edge of the opposite side of the metropolitan I’m on,” you groan, “That’s gonna complicate things.”
>It’s gonna add upwards of one to two hours to your travel time depending on how bad traffic is.
>Before you can get more annoyed than you already were, you hear your name being called; Rosie must be done with her bath.
>You slide your phone back into your pocket and go back to the bathroom door, then knock once.
>“You can come in.”
>She managed to shake off most of the water, given the amount of water all over your bathroom, though doing so has left her mane and tail a mess.
>All this prep you’ve done and you didn’t even think of buying a brush; guess you’ll have to use one of your combs and hope for the best.