The Tale ofA Girl.

I have always believed in fairytales I spent my entire childhood days preying on fairytales and on the dull, gloomy, grey days when I was less grateful for what I then had , I would wave my magic wand and imagine myself in an enchanting fairy land. My life can hardly be compared to any fairy tale I have ever read. Either way I look at it there won’t likely be a happy ever after in my story, or maybe just because I hadnt reached the final page yet. What would come after the happy ever after anyway…huh? alot of hurrahs and then everyone applauds and goes home to sleep over it. I couldn't possibly be the princess,the role just wouldn’t suit me, maybe I am not the lead character,… in my own fairytale? And what about the prince where is he … probably waiting somewhere for his dansel in destress to call out …so why aren't I calling?



Perhaps this isnt a princess fairytale. In fairytales the princess doesnt have freckles with long fuzzy hair and walk around barefoot, just because she likes the feel of warm sand and cool grass on her feet, in fairytales princesses are dainty and pretty and dont giggle and chatter when they not suppose to. So maybe I could possibly be a pixie sprinkling dew drops on the leafs and dusting pollen off flower buds…hmmm sounds more like me and do they have rock music in pixie tales, I do love rock music, my drums could be the leaves and my drumsticks two tiny twigs. How exactly does a pixie tale go anyway cant quiet remember reading one. I only have this concrete jungle surrounding me. The picture doesnt fit, a concrete jungle with pixies. There’d be no dew drops to sprinkle on the leafs, no flower buds just smog and the rumbling of traffic as people shuffle away in their daily rituals.



So lets see…. My fairytale would begin by me stepping out of my apartment house, as my stilleto heels crunch the crispy morning frost on the sidewalk pavement. My furry hood flung over my head as I rubb my hands togehter and shove them in my skinny jeans pocket. The streets glimmering with a white illuminating dust, a cold mist that the first tiny snow flakes to drop dance and bounce around in. Chunky red brick buildings, warm and inviting spilling over both sides off the road. All the traffic around me buzz by the town square but I can't hear a sound, I can only just see it. I have my ipod on and my favourite songs are playing and I continue down the path among the crowd of people….I’d cross over to the supermarket to do some shopping and notice the cashier forcefully thrushing away at the till and the young man packing the shelves and bipping the price machine, almost robotically. As I push my shopping trolley I would see him staring and smiling I’d even turn around just to make sure it's really me he is smiling at, then shyly blush. Loosing grip of the packet of cornflakes in my hand, they would go fall out off my hand and crash to the ground. And he’d come over and pick it up for me we would both smile at each other but we don't say anything except i’d starter a soft ”thanks” and he’d just smile At the check out point I would quickly pack my groceries and step out again into the cold street.Clinging at my grocery bags.



Then two wooly dreaded haired men would approach me along the pavement.

„Hey Miss looks like you need some help.”

I would reply politely „Thank you but I can manage.”

They would continue to follow me and one would nudge the other and whisper something and keeping a strong eye on my handbag. Nervously I begin to step rapidly and almost trip over my own feet. He then would appear again infront of me and reach out his hand, smile and say in a warm strong voice „Let me help” The two wooly haired men would turn away and step aside and as I would look into his warm eyes my icy cold cheeks would turn red and the cold frost would melt on them and warmth would spread right through me from the tips of my fingers right down to my toes. My hero! And we would walk away side by side, that would be how it all began,….



I guess it would just be a tale about me that all started once upon a time far far away in nevernever land which could have princesses and princes’ in it with pixies and lots of fairy dust and dewdrops and all kinds of magic if I chose it to have and hey, it could even have concrete jungles with rumbling trucks, old ladies feeding pigoens on the square and babies crying in their prams, or wooly haired men, infact I could meet my prince at the supermarket over the check out till, he wouldnt have to riding along on his stalion, a nice four wheeler would do just fine. There might not even have to be a prince I could be be an indepedent single princess courageous and galliont providing for ones in need… this story could have whatever and whoever I wanted it to have after all I have the pen in my hand and I am writting it all. I could thoughtfully skeam it up. I could be the lead character, the narrator or just a little observer in the background, it would all depend on me. Still, it would be my story, all about me, despite how others read between the lines and so I would decide when to put a fullstop and end a chapter … my story could continue after the „happy ever after” someone could write a sequil and make it a never ending story with lots of could be’s and would be’s… and even how it "should be".