There was once a girl who lived in a tower because she had a gaping cavity where her heart should have been, and she was embarrassed to walk among others with no pulse or feeling. For some reason another girl kept visiting her and telling her stories, singing her songs, asking the girl in the tower to run away with her. Finally one spring dusk the ragged girl shouted, "I brought you a heart!" and held it up, triumphant, ignoring the blood that stained her hands and dripped down her arms.
The girl in the tower looked down, smiling to see her friend in the failing light. “It’s real!” she mused, reaching her arms down as far as she could. She knew that she couldn’t reach, so she had to ignore her fear and run down the tower stairs. She grabbed the heart and pulled it to her, inside her…and felt. Felt too much and too deeply and regretted her choice. “This isn’t right!” she cried, ripping the heart from her chest and retreating to the tower. She closed off all the doors and all the windows and left the heart outside when the sun finally went down.
Showing posts with label fairytale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fairytale. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Monday, April 30, 2012
Bedtime Story, Part IV
[The parts in italics were not written by me, but by the person I was telling the story to.]
There was a boy who watched the girl, watched her with the men who came to her nightly. He kept himself away from the lights, not because he was afraid of them precisely, but because he knew they would melt him utterly. He crouched by her when she slept and watched her from all the shadows he knew. The darkest shadow was her smile, and he wished to hide there the most. And he wished he had a heart to give.
There was once a boy who found a heart in a sand castle and decided to sell it in the marketplace in a nearby city, as he already had one of his own. He wrapped it carefully in crinkled white paper even as it throbbed and pulsed. He did not make it to the marketplace, though, as a shadow-boy caught him in an alley. "Give me your money," the shadow-boy said, thinking of a girl with dust in her hair who had not eaten today. "I have no money," protested boy-from-the-sea. "Only a heart. Want it?"
Shadow boy held his hands out, greedy for the heart. “Yes, yes, and all I want is yes,” he said and boy-from-the-sea dropped it into his hands. The boy opened the paper, just a tiny bit, to see the heart, because he was curious. He had never seen one before, only heard stories. He found the girl, the dusty dancing girl, and he felt brave, excited. “I have it, for you, a heart, a heart!” he sang, stepping forward into the sunlight. And he melted. When she turned to look there was only the heart, beating quietly in its white paper wrapping.
There was a boy who watched the girl, watched her with the men who came to her nightly. He kept himself away from the lights, not because he was afraid of them precisely, but because he knew they would melt him utterly. He crouched by her when she slept and watched her from all the shadows he knew. The darkest shadow was her smile, and he wished to hide there the most. And he wished he had a heart to give.
There was once a boy who found a heart in a sand castle and decided to sell it in the marketplace in a nearby city, as he already had one of his own. He wrapped it carefully in crinkled white paper even as it throbbed and pulsed. He did not make it to the marketplace, though, as a shadow-boy caught him in an alley. "Give me your money," the shadow-boy said, thinking of a girl with dust in her hair who had not eaten today. "I have no money," protested boy-from-the-sea. "Only a heart. Want it?"
Shadow boy held his hands out, greedy for the heart. “Yes, yes, and all I want is yes,” he said and boy-from-the-sea dropped it into his hands. The boy opened the paper, just a tiny bit, to see the heart, because he was curious. He had never seen one before, only heard stories. He found the girl, the dusty dancing girl, and he felt brave, excited. “I have it, for you, a heart, a heart!” he sang, stepping forward into the sunlight. And he melted. When she turned to look there was only the heart, beating quietly in its white paper wrapping.
Bedtime Story, Part III
There was once a ragged tramp of a girl with dust in her hair who had no home, sleeping under stairwells and on benches in the big city where she lived. Sometimes she would sing and dance for coins, or sweep courtyards and water flowers. Though dirty she was a pretty girl, and men often asked her for favors. "Only for a heart, I'd only do it for a heart, not for your love but mine, and only for a heart," she would say with her dark smile.
Bedtime Story, Part II
There was once a girl who lived in a tall tower - not in the middle of nowhere guarded by a dragon, but in a green park in a big city. She was not a princess, though she was beautiful. The girl who loved her, a ragged tramp of a girl with dust in her long dark hair, would visit every day. "Come with me," the girl below pleaded. "I will show you the world and all my love. "I haven't the heart," replied the girl in the tower. "I haven't the heart."
Bedtime Story, Part 1
There was once a boy who lived by the sea. He loved to build sandcastles too close to the water, so that the waves would destroy them, making him feel like a powerful and capricious god.
One of the sandcastles would not wash away, though, even when the waves rushed over all else, smoothing out the sand. It did not become a lump of sludge, either. It stood, a little crookedly, for three days and three nights. Finally he took a shovel and smashed it.
Inside the sandcastle was a beating heart, bleeding but alive. He picked it up in trembling hands and felt rooted to the spot.
Last I looked he was still there, under the stars, not sure what to do next.
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