We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for a message from our psyche.
This is story about a stupid thing. A really very stupid thing. It will be difficult to spot in the cavalcade of stupid things, but try to find it if you can, for it is the crux upon which the story is built.
Once upon a time, there was a girl. This girl loved to walk, and she would walk throughout her city, wincing as the stones nipped at her feet, hiding from the seeking sun, but loving the speed of her step and the warmth that never quite reached the tips of her fingers. She would watch the passers-by watching her, wondering what they wondered, smiling at what she knew, and whistling to music only she could hear.
One day, she was stopped by an old vizier who looked like a toad and wanted to talk, wanted to know where she worked, wanted wanted wanted. He'd watched and waited and wanted as she'd breezed by for many days, but it was only then that he'd managed to reach out his tongue quickly enough.
The girl smiled and talked, inwardly impatient and brooding, as was her wont, and hoped never to see him again. She would tell the dragon at the gate of her keep to guard the door against this toad who'd been watching and waiting and wanting.
The next day, when the dragon was out doing whatever it is dragons do, the vizier leapt past the guard and came to see her in the highest room of the tallest tower.
The girl thought many terrible words, but smiled and talked, as was her wont. The vizier talked about the city they shared, the neighboring kingdom, and the habits of the commoners as the sun shone white around them. The girl talked about the man she loved, and how she would go often to see his family – who were, in effect, her family. Eventually, she packed up her belongings, pulled her red shawl over her dark hair, and said she was going to visit them right then.
The vizier wanted to accompany her. This is when the girl did a stupid thing. On the way, some mercenaries of the kingdom saw her and started shouting about her long, dark hair, for it really was very long – though hidden under her red shawl. What a stupid thing, she thought.
Further on, a woman walked up to them and stared at the girl – right into her eyes – as though she wanted something the girl had and was willing to claw for it. No, more than that – as though she already owned it and the girl had stolen it. There was no anger; just terrible knowledge.
The girl froze before this strange woman – large and well dressed, but with her hair wound tight and projecting out from her head in sibilant shapes.
The vizier was also frozen, but managed to croak, “T-This is my wife.”
Time was frozen.
“A-and this is my... friend.”
The girl watched, waited, wary of the curse that was toiling and troubling in this terrible silence.
It's not... I'm not... Toads don't turn into Prince Charming – don't you know that?
“I-I'm just going to see my family,” the girl managed to whisper, as cold as stone. Then the gaze was lifted and the woman walked away – all without saying a word.
“Y-You can come with us,” the vizier gasped, gulped, gurgled.
But it was too late. The woman had vanished.
What a stupid thing, thought the girl. She kept walking with the vizier until they reached her family's house, where he asked if he could call upon her again.
Even now? she thought. But she knew her Father personified love, so she agreed, even though she hated and hissed in her heart, which was not her wont. She detested this toad, detested the curse he had set on them, detested the deafening silence she could still hear.
She looked at the three of them – the toad, the girl, and the witch – as though from a very long way away. What a stupid thing, she thought, that love should be given to the unworthy.
What a stupid thing, she thought, that love should keep loving.
What a stupid thing, that love should be so hard and lust so very easy.
What a stupid thing, that love should be so precious and yet shatter from accidental touches and careless glances every minute, every hour, every day, until the years felt jagged with it.
What a very stupid thing, love.
She drew up battle plans for her kingdom with her Father, a fine captain of His army and his best generals, journeyed to a faraway inn to look for a missing slipper that better have been magical, and then walked quickly back to the home she shared with her brother and sister.
Jake, who was nursing a sore crown, wanted to leave their ivory tower for an ivory bar. Jill was still hurting from her tumble head over heels and disagreed. The girl drew water for all of them and refused to pull on her red shawl again that night. Jake wanted to know why, but couldn't understand even when she tried to explain.
What could she say?
That the princes of the kingdom were said to 'watch' for princesses? Like the pea under the mattress, like the cinder girl at the ball, a good heart could be felt, seen, protected.
“You are being watched,” winked the travelling troubadour who declaimed in her tongue. And she'd even felt his gaze, once or twice – not her prince, but a prince, nonetheless.
And then came the toad, the curse, and the witch. And suddenly she never wanted to be looked at again. Because if princes saw good hearts, then why had the toad watched and waited and wanted?
The girl wished for her governess, a no-nonsense woman who couldn't abide stupid things, but she had flown away with sooty baggage and a good wind in her umbrella. Then the girl wished for the captain of her personal guard, because he was safe. Finally, she wished for her wise grandfather, who not only couldn't abide stupid things, but couldn't see any at all – only knowing love.
But she had only herself, the toad, and the witch. And she felt like the weakest of them all.
But maybe she was overthinking it all. Maybe they were all just ordinary people living in, say, the middle of Africa – no evil viziers, no princesses; just ordinary people sharing a day in their lives. Either way, no matter what the other two vowed to do to each other, curses had no power over her at all.
What a very stupid thing, she thought gratefully before falling asleep.
The End
This is story about a stupid thing. A really very stupid thing. It will be difficult to spot in the cavalcade of stupid things, but try to find it if you can, for it is the crux upon which the story is built.
Once upon a time, there was a girl. This girl loved to walk, and she would walk throughout her city, wincing as the stones nipped at her feet, hiding from the seeking sun, but loving the speed of her step and the warmth that never quite reached the tips of her fingers. She would watch the passers-by watching her, wondering what they wondered, smiling at what she knew, and whistling to music only she could hear.
One day, she was stopped by an old vizier who looked like a toad and wanted to talk, wanted to know where she worked, wanted wanted wanted. He'd watched and waited and wanted as she'd breezed by for many days, but it was only then that he'd managed to reach out his tongue quickly enough.
The girl smiled and talked, inwardly impatient and brooding, as was her wont, and hoped never to see him again. She would tell the dragon at the gate of her keep to guard the door against this toad who'd been watching and waiting and wanting.
The next day, when the dragon was out doing whatever it is dragons do, the vizier leapt past the guard and came to see her in the highest room of the tallest tower.
The girl thought many terrible words, but smiled and talked, as was her wont. The vizier talked about the city they shared, the neighboring kingdom, and the habits of the commoners as the sun shone white around them. The girl talked about the man she loved, and how she would go often to see his family – who were, in effect, her family. Eventually, she packed up her belongings, pulled her red shawl over her dark hair, and said she was going to visit them right then.
The vizier wanted to accompany her. This is when the girl did a stupid thing. On the way, some mercenaries of the kingdom saw her and started shouting about her long, dark hair, for it really was very long – though hidden under her red shawl. What a stupid thing, she thought.
Further on, a woman walked up to them and stared at the girl – right into her eyes – as though she wanted something the girl had and was willing to claw for it. No, more than that – as though she already owned it and the girl had stolen it. There was no anger; just terrible knowledge.
The girl froze before this strange woman – large and well dressed, but with her hair wound tight and projecting out from her head in sibilant shapes.
The vizier was also frozen, but managed to croak, “T-This is my wife.”
Time was frozen.
“A-and this is my... friend.”
The girl watched, waited, wary of the curse that was toiling and troubling in this terrible silence.
It's not... I'm not... Toads don't turn into Prince Charming – don't you know that?
“I-I'm just going to see my family,” the girl managed to whisper, as cold as stone. Then the gaze was lifted and the woman walked away – all without saying a word.
“Y-You can come with us,” the vizier gasped, gulped, gurgled.
But it was too late. The woman had vanished.
What a stupid thing, thought the girl. She kept walking with the vizier until they reached her family's house, where he asked if he could call upon her again.
Even now? she thought. But she knew her Father personified love, so she agreed, even though she hated and hissed in her heart, which was not her wont. She detested this toad, detested the curse he had set on them, detested the deafening silence she could still hear.
She looked at the three of them – the toad, the girl, and the witch – as though from a very long way away. What a stupid thing, she thought, that love should be given to the unworthy.
What a stupid thing, she thought, that love should keep loving.
What a stupid thing, that love should be so hard and lust so very easy.
What a stupid thing, that love should be so precious and yet shatter from accidental touches and careless glances every minute, every hour, every day, until the years felt jagged with it.
What a very stupid thing, love.
She drew up battle plans for her kingdom with her Father, a fine captain of His army and his best generals, journeyed to a faraway inn to look for a missing slipper that better have been magical, and then walked quickly back to the home she shared with her brother and sister.
Jake, who was nursing a sore crown, wanted to leave their ivory tower for an ivory bar. Jill was still hurting from her tumble head over heels and disagreed. The girl drew water for all of them and refused to pull on her red shawl again that night. Jake wanted to know why, but couldn't understand even when she tried to explain.
What could she say?
That the princes of the kingdom were said to 'watch' for princesses? Like the pea under the mattress, like the cinder girl at the ball, a good heart could be felt, seen, protected.
“You are being watched,” winked the travelling troubadour who declaimed in her tongue. And she'd even felt his gaze, once or twice – not her prince, but a prince, nonetheless.
And then came the toad, the curse, and the witch. And suddenly she never wanted to be looked at again. Because if princes saw good hearts, then why had the toad watched and waited and wanted?
The girl wished for her governess, a no-nonsense woman who couldn't abide stupid things, but she had flown away with sooty baggage and a good wind in her umbrella. Then the girl wished for the captain of her personal guard, because he was safe. Finally, she wished for her wise grandfather, who not only couldn't abide stupid things, but couldn't see any at all – only knowing love.
But she had only herself, the toad, and the witch. And she felt like the weakest of them all.
But maybe she was overthinking it all. Maybe they were all just ordinary people living in, say, the middle of Africa – no evil viziers, no princesses; just ordinary people sharing a day in their lives. Either way, no matter what the other two vowed to do to each other, curses had no power over her at all.
What a very stupid thing, she thought gratefully before falling asleep.
The End
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