Apr. 15th, 2012

cellwave: (and that's how babies are made)
[Hello there, Keep. Ready for a story? I hope so. The video feed clicks on to show Shal, surrounded by books. The library is the perfect place for story time, don't you think?]

When I was maybe five years old there was one girl, in her late teens I guess, and she'd always tell stories to the younger children.

What made them interesting was that she never told them like the old ladies did. The endings were always hopeful and romantic, and we always laughed at her when they ended with the hero winning love instead of food or money. But she didn't mind, and she kept telling them anyway, asserting that some day her prince would come along just like in the stories and take her away from Meteor City to live happily ever after.

We were really surprised, but eventually she got her chance. One day she left with her prince, and we never saw her again.

Or at least none of the others did, years later I stumbled across her mummified corpse in someone's collection of human statues.

So much for fairy tales, huh?

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cellwave: it is not lemon flavoured (Default)
Shalnark

December 2012

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