Did Someone Request A Bedtime Story?

Standard


7885e3984ffae80671360625daa5073b--kids-rainbow-rainbow-parties

Once upon a time there was a little girl with pink hair.

I know, I know, you are thinking her name probably starts with an A or a V, but you would be wrong. You’re thinking of a grown-up with pink hair who has delightful childlike qualities. This story is about a little girl, remember?

ANYWAY! The little girl in this story’s name is LuLu.

LuLu, by anyone’s standards, was a most adorable child. Her face was round and glowed like a peach. Her eyes were wide and blue, like a doll’s, but not one of those creepy dolls.  They were ringed with marvelously thick lashes that bumped ever so gently against the crest of her cheeks when she grew sleepy, which was frequently. When she smiled, her dimples were simply incorrigible! She wore her rosey hair high in two soft puffs, each tied with rainbow ribbons.

LuLu’s mother let her pick her own clothes. She never went outside without her favorites, a lavender overcoat, heart shaped tinted glasses, leopard print galoshes and an umbrella to match. The umbrella had a dangerous looking spike on the tip so LuLu’s mother had put a bit of cork on it, for safety. What she didn’t know, is that LuLu took the cork off as soon as she was out of her mother’s sight because you never know when you might be having an adventure and need to poke at something.  It rained often where LuLu lived and she was always hoping to find a nice, splashy puddle,

LuLu liked to go outside, but it didn’t happen very often because the other thing that LuLu was always hoping for, was to stay awake. Most of the time she was too sleepy to go stomp in puddles, chase butterflies or catch frogs. (The frogs were greatly relieved) Everytime she even thought about going outside LuLu would burp loudly and start to nod off. While other little girls tried to go to sleep and failed, she wanted to stay awake but couldn’t keep her lids up.

LuLu’s apparent narcolepsy was sometimes so severe that the little lass fell asleep while holding her mouth open for her mother to help her brush her teeth at night.  “Lulu,” she would scold as she flossed the little bits of meat from between the bicuspids on the inner row. “Tsk,” she clucked, “You shouldn’t eat so much, especially so close to bedtime. You are eating us out of house and home! For goodness sake! We can’t keep a cook and the school says you won’t be able to attend, if you can’t learn to control yourself.”

LuLu snapped back to consciousness with a snort and spit out her toothpaste. Her wide blue peepers were ready to spill saltwater in a heartbeat. She loved school almost as much as she loved her lavender overcoat. School had plenty of another thing she was always hoping for; food. School had snack time and lunchtime and naptime. While she slept, she dreamed of eating, chomping and gnawing. When she was awake, LuLu was always hungry.

But Mama! I love school! And I excel at naptime!

“LuLu, none of the other students can take a nap with you! According to their parents, most of them can’t sleep at night either. We are having quite a time smoothing things over. We may even have to homeschool you. IF we can find a tutor who is willing. Really, LuLu, I don’t know what we are going to do with you.”

LuLu pouted. She was even more adorable when she pouted. She didn’t cry, but her pink pom poms drooped a little. “But Mom.”

Her mother extended an arm, handing LuLu her pajamas. They had a funny print on them; crocodiles with bowler hats, penguins doing penguiny things, robots eating ice cream cones and of course, rainbows!

LuLu gave her mother a goodnight kiss and let herself be tucked in tightly. The light was turned out and she heard the latch click, firmly securing the door. Her mother told her this was for her own good. LuLu sometimes walked in her sleep and wandered off looking for food in the middle of the night. Through the heavy wood she heard her mother sigh, “I know you try to get along with others, LuLu, but your classmates are all terrified of you!”

I know, Mother.” LuLu answered solemnly, while in the dark she smiled, all four rows of teeth softly luminescent.

“But I can’t help it. They are delicious!”


*I scribbled this out quickly, for my friend, A, also known as Victoria Victrola, who like me, suffers from insomnia, because she requested a bedtime story.
She didn’t specify if she wanted a story to make her sleepy or one to keep her awake. Oh well. This is a silly little tale, so I hope that it does the trick.

Advertisements

The Moonlight

Standard

I’ve been posting a lot of poems of late and people have been asking for story bits. This is one of my favorite little pieces of writing. I admit, I am ridiculously fond of it. I haven’t decided if it’s a “fragmeant” that I may develop further or if it’s complete as is. “The Moonlight” is only a working title. I’m not quite sure what to call it. Ideas?

A magical thing doesn’t lose its usefulness if it changes its state.

PhotographerThe moonbeams scattered everywhere, fractured light spilling all over the carpet!

“Oh no!” the Sunny Marmalade Cat cried out softly, “You’ve broken them! Every single one!” He tried to sweep them into a pile with his tail but they began to degrade into a shimmering powder, transforming into a dancing puddle of light. Bits of silver stuck to his fur like beads of mercury and scattered as he flicked his tail, vexed.

“Oh Dear!” the Asynchronous Clock ticked nervously.”Oh Dear. Oh Dear. Oh Dear. What shall we do now?” And though she tried to keep her hands from moving, they clicked into place, striking the hour and she began to chime!

This caused the Good Mourning Dove to coo and cluck and leave a little icing on the edge of the window sill.

Everyone froze, poised to flee at the sound of a breath or a step, but all remained still.

The Midnight Velvet Cat hissed for attention and once she had it she pushed at the remains of the moonlight with her paw. “We have to be moving, now! We mustn’t let ourselves be discovered. But we can’t leave this here. They will never understand.” Continue reading