9/11 Short Stories

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Sandy Scroll awoke to the scents of dust and ash and ink on paper, some of it centuries old and some of it freshly deposited. She glanced out the window at the chiming clock tower that had awoken her; it was dawn, or perhaps dusk, just as it had been for every hour of every day for as long as anypony could remember. According to Appleoosa's clock, however, it was ten. AM or PM? The time-of-day sign that the townsponies swapped out every "noon" and "midnight" was not visible from Sand's house behind the tower. But, in either case, the current hour meant that Sand had again worked all through the "night," and possibly through a good part of the following "day." Sand shivered. The fire on the hearth behind her must have died out while she had slept, and the air presently streaming through the window before her was chill as ice; it had been ages since Appleoosa had last produced glass with which to ward off the winter winds.…show more content…
The boiler part was unlikely to be of much interest to Sand's fellow townsponies, but was a welcome addition to her personal collection. Most of the other trinkets, she figured, would fetch a decent price at the market. The pamphlets, on the other hoof, were more valuable than any number of bits -- as were all written works from Old Equestria, however minor. Indeed, if Sand had had her way, none of these items would be for sale; the idea of trading irreplaceable relics for mere coin had never sat well with her. Yet, every mare needs to eat, and so compromises were

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