|Battle Quills... ready!
|Issue: 1001 | 9th day of Awakening, Y26
|The Valentine Cure"For my entire life of 5 days and 3 hours, I dreamed of becoming a Neopian Times reporter. I longed to write with the fancy, blue quill and to own a White Weewoo Petpet. Today, that dream was..."
|Valentine’s Day at Kelp"The Maitre D' arrived at Kelp early to set up for the special Valentine’s Day dinner. When the restaurant first opened, it was booked and impossible to get in but nowadays..."
|The L-Word"Kanrik rounded the corner to see Hanso frantically doing the trick of stomping on the trash in a garbage can so you can fit more stuff in it. This was unusual because it was..."
|A Chocolate Coated Cabbage?Another instalment where we explore Neopia through various cabbage items.
|The Candy Caper"Bad news reached the guild around midday on the 2nd day of Sleeping. It'd all started when I'd gone into the Guild Prize Closet to check if everything was in order for the..."
|The Valentine’s Day Deadline"The newly-minted investigative journalist for The Neopian Times quickly walked down the sidewalk toward her Neohome in Neopia Central. The frazzled Desert Aisha quickly scrawled her notes across her notepad..."
|Sharing the Sky"A large, heart-covered banner hung from the student centre entryway, proclaiming a message for all to see..."
|Grey to Fuchsia"The old alarm sounded exactly at seven o’clock, same as yesterday, same as the day before. Edgar Rutherford turned gingerly in his bed and rubbed his eyes, crusted with fatigue from another night of unsteady slumber..."
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"Grey to Fuchsia" by yuumeria
RINGGG! The old alarm sounded exactly at seven o’clock, same as yesterday, same as the day before. Edgar Rutherford turned gingerly in his bed and rubbed his eyes, crusted with fatigue from another night of unsteady slumber. The Grey Moehog reached over to his nightstand, slapping his hoof against the moth-eaten wooden surface a few times before finding the alarm clock and turned it off with a grunt.
Edgar Rutherford of 253 Wishing Well Drive, Neopia Central had another bland, listless day to look forward to. He ran through the day’s expected events over in his mind as he lay in his bed, squeezing out a few extra minutes of rest from a well-oiled routine established over many years. Make the bed, wash up, eat two hard-boiled eggs with a glass of milk, iron his shirt, head to work…
With another grunt, Edgar got out of bed. Shouldn’t a night’s rest invigorate him? Instead, he felt like he had powered through hard labour instead. The years are creeping up on him, he thought bitterly as he rubbed the base of his neck, trying to loosen the tight muscles. Edgar had been living in this house on Wishing Well Drive for nearly twenty years. He picked this street precisely because of its hope-invoking name. Which, as time ticked on, turned out to be rather ironic.
He folded up his blanket neatly, smoothed out the sheets, and headed to the bathroom. In the dimly lit mirror, he found his reflection.