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For Old Times' Sake · FiM Minific ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 400–750
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Nouveau
The earthy, dark aroma wafted up to her nose, carrying with it the faintest promise of a sweetness. First came the bitter and astringent overtones, carefully balanced by the bold and fruity body. She rolled her tongue and swallowed - only then did the alcohol make itself apparent, bringing complexity to what would otherwise be a dull finish.

Berry sighed as she set the wineglass back on the table, the hollow tinkle of glass on wood betraying its emptiness. With one hoof steadying the wineglass, Berry fumbled for the bottle in the darkness, the light haze of alcohol taking its toll. It was a fine reunion, she reasoned as her hoof met the cool resistance of the waiting bottle. The wine brought back memories, a bridge across time with herself, reaching back six years with a single bottle. A party for one, a glass shared with many.

A somberness settled over her thoughts as the wine glugged into the glass. Years ago she had been somepony else entirely. No kid, no real job, and a friend at the bottom at every glass. The days passed in a meaningless blur as she accomplished nothing and went nowhere.

She raised the glass to her lips. A night wasted just like any other, full of careless words and risky choices. Even now, she didn’t know the date of that mess of a night, only the poor guess afforded by counting back the weeks. Worse of all, she was oblivious until she had drunk herself into poverty, and the morning sickness finally became distinguishable from a hangover. That morning was full of a shame unlike any she had felt before, and she promised herself, and her foal-to-be, that she would do better.

Even though the rose glasses of time and wine, the process carried with it no pleasant feelings. Giving up drink was easy, at first - she was too poor to afford anything but water anyways. With sobriety came savings, and although her wage was meager, bits started to pile up. With time, those bits turned into a stocked pantry and supplies for the coming foal. She even quit her job tending to the vineyard - she could hardly manage it in her condition - and turned her drinking experience into a new career constructing drink menus for some fancy-pants restaurant in the city. It was tough, but she loved it. For the first time in her life, she felt like an adult, with responsibilities and regularity.

Berry grimaced at the memory as the wine hit her lips. She had been so foolish.

After Ruby was born, it was like the supports she had used to shore herself up started to crumble under the pressure of the newborn. Despite the brave face she put on every morning, caring for a foal all alone was almost more than she could handle. She was running out of money. The nights passed with little rest, while the days wobbled between struggling to find a babysitter and spending the day watching Ruby. What little work she could manage became a cruel grind as the alcohol she had once embraced and then forsaken taunted her with a familiar promise.

The wine, now almost sickly sweet in her bitterness, poured down her throat. Just one glass, she had told herself in her desperation for release. She shouldn’t have gone looking, she shouldn’t have checked out that hole-in-the-wall booze shack on the way home. But despite all the things she shouldn’t have done, she found herself the giddy owner of a fine bottle of double-discounted wine.

But after that night of excess, morning did not come for her. There was no peeking of sunlight through the windowpane, nothing but darkness. Tained alcohol, the doctors had told her, probably shaking their heads. The only thing that held her together at all at that point was Ruby. In that new and terrifying night, she became her only guiding light.

Hot tears slipped down her cheeks in the darkness, dripping softly on the table as the glass hit the table, the last of the wine gone. That was then, she reminded herself, this was nothing more than a celebration of what she found for herself, those years ago. Berry pushed the kitchen chair back three hoof-widths, sauntering confidently - if wobbly - the five paces right and twelve steps up to Ruby’s room, where she pushed the door open with her snout.

“Sleep well, Ruby. Mommy loves you more than anything else."
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