September 21, 2010 § Leave a comment

Once upon a time, in a far-off land, lived a fairy queen. And damn she was happy about being queen. Being queen was everything. And she lived alone and she was happy and she was queen.

Once upon another time, this son-of-a-sawn-off entered a kingdom. She was still alone and yet his presence meant that her aloneness had taken on another meaning. And this angered her.

And so she climbed the highest tree in the far-off land, and she waved her aloneness away with her embroidered Etsy-purchased twee hankerchief.

And that was about it. She never told the son-of-a-sawn-off that she wanted to spend the rest of her life living with him in a queen-size bed, and never leave, and be fed through tubes if she had to, and bounce on the bed if exercise was a must.

She never told that son-of-a-sawn-off because she, in her queen-of-hearts, did not believe that this son would take her hand, and lead her down to the garden, and say nothing, and mean everything.

It’s when you speak that I am frightened, you see. It scares me. I am not brave. I am born this instant, dreadfully, and with a hunger. Reach.


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