Today was lots of fun. Granny got apple fritters and cider for us on the train. Once we were off the train the crowd carried us through the station and into the streets of the Big Apple. The view was breathtaking; buildings taller than I'd ever seen, taxi-carriages zooming down cobblestone roads, smells of pretzels and hay-dogs on the breeze. Why didn't I love it? Was it not what I truly wanted? It was certainly everything I dreamt of.

Granny led us around, apparently knowing exactly where everything was, insisting that we visit Mare Liberty first.

"All new-comers have to see it first thing!" She demanded. It was a great site, a mile-tall green mare standing only on her back hooves while holding a torch in one hoof, cradling a declaration of independence in the other. Granny got us to climb to the crown. The view was truly breathtaking, sorry for using the same adjective twice but really, it was.

The ocean stretched out past the horizon, boats speckled over the glistening water. On the other side, more tall buildings draw their own jagged skyline. A clean wind blows and I take a deep breath of the foreign city air. I smile, then look at mom to tell her how great this is. She's smiling at me, clearly relieved that I'm happy.

I'm relieved, too. I was afraid last night would ruin my day, but it didn't. I made sure to hold on to that feeling all day.

Suddenly Granny points out the window shouting, "Look those ponies just fell off their bike." Sure enough, two ponies who were previously riding a tandem bicycle are now rolling in the grass beside the road.

I laugh at Granny, "What's wrong with you."

She just shrugs as we turn to go back.

On the ferry back into the city I start asking questions. "So what's next on the list? Are we gonna visit the Boardwalk, or Centurion Park?"

"They’re both definitely part of the plan," Granny ensures, "but not yet."

"What then, Times Square? Maybe we can go to Bridleway!" I feel like a foal on a field trip to the zoo: I want to see everything right now!

"Well, getting a ticket to a show might be hard, but we'll definitely try."

No luck, though. But even without tickets to a show we stroll down the Bridleway lane like we live there. Granny points out a rustic "Pasta-and-Cuisine" restaurant. I point out a funnel cake vendor. Mom decides we're going to a pizza place. We all agree, Manehatten is always famed for the best pizza. And sometimes the best cheesecake.

Granny gets a large pizza, half olives and half plain. Olives are my favorite pizza topping. We each get a cola and wait for the pizza, talking.

"The waitress sure is a cutie," Granny nudges me.

I nearly spit out my drink.

"Mom," says mom. My mom... she said it to grandma.

"What?" Granny shrugs innocently. "I can tell a good-looking pony when I see one."

"Oh come on," I groan, "it's not like I can ask her out." I take another sip slowly.

"And why not?" Granny pushes. Mom gets a worried look on her face.

I remain calm, "Because, we're just visiting."

"Well you might not be," Granny taunts.

I choke on my cola again. "What (cough) what's that supposed to mean?"

She’s laughing at me. She breaks, then takes a long sip before answering, "You're planning on moving here, right?" Can old ladies still be sassy? Jeez, "So what's stopping you from getting a filly?"

I groan again.

"Plus, I really think you'll like where we go next."

I sit back up straight. What's that supposed to mean?

The pizza arrives, the waitress warns us it's piping hot. I think, Granny thinks you're piping hot, staring at my half of the pizza. My mind is still on what Granny just said, though. Where are we going next?

Before she leaves, Granny stops the waitress saying, "Excuse me, but my grandson thinks you're very attractive." I stare Granny, then at the stranger, wide-eyed and obviously blushing.

She giggles, "That's so sweet."

Sweet? What am I ten? I lay my head on the table and cover my face with my left foreleg, pushing my glasses off.

She laughs some more and I look at her again. A little blurry now, she still looks the same. "I'm Pearl," she says. She is an attractive unicorn; a glossy blue-green mane pinned back and cascading down her pure white neck. Her ears are rounded and her nose is a little sharp, but her deep blue eyes sparkle in the city sunlight. Her cutie mark is strange, a seven-pointed star inside an oyster shell. And her tail matches her mane style perfectly.

"I'm Timber," I respond, finally.

"That's a nice name," she compliments. "What do you like to do?"

"I write," I say, taking a deep breath "primarily fiction short stories," I sit back up and replace my glasses, "but I've got plans to sell novels."

"Well," she flirts, taking out her waitress pen and writing her number on a napkin, "I love to read. Gimme a call some time, 'kay?" She has a phone? We don't have a phone!

I'm somewhat speechless, still blushing hard. Granny interrupts, "He certainly will, Miss."

The mare laughs again and walks away. Granny looks at me with a cheeky smile and her eyebrows raised. I groan and drop my head back onto the table.

Once we finish our pizza, granny pays and I talk to Pearl some more and find out she got her cutie mark just by getting a really close friend, back in her home town. I told her my dad named me after his great-uncle or whatever, and that he's so old-fashioned he actually named my brother Dale. She and I laugh, she's a swell mare and I like spending time with her. I don't know if I love her, but she does seem to radiate comfort, somehow. I'm happy enough to not completely lose it when I mention my dad.

Walking out I envision a potential future with Pearl. It's mostly pleasant, but when I force myself to think about sleeping with her my pizza threatens to come back up. What's wrong with me? I mean, there's nothing wrong with me, but why do I think of filly-parts as absolutely revolting? I only tried to think of her that way for my dad’s sake, which is truly idiotic of me. I guess I just wanted to prove again that I wasn’t interested in mares. Now I kind of feel sorry for Pearl, which is actually kind of funny.