Living the Fairy Tale

ONCE UPON A TIME a lowly writer was asked to pen a story, a fairy tale to amuse the readers of a popular weblog which had the curious title of Petit Fours and Hot Tamales. It was a rather odd little world that a collection of writers had formed with their sometimes rambling musings, quotes, pictures, recipes and chatter, but her fabulous fairy tale would be seen by hundreds. And who knew? Maybe even thousands before it was all said and done. Egads! It would have to be perfect!

With her hands on the keyboard, she pursed her lips, squinted her eyes and stared on a distant spot, waiting for her muse to rain inspiration upon her fair head. After some time, with nary a word from her damned lazy muse, the writer jumped to her feet pacing and fuming. She decided to be creative on her own. After all, she was a WRITER.

Well, she thought, there must be a castle high on a hill overlooking the kingdon. It’s protected by a flying dragon, and there should be a toad that becomes a prince. The prince will be rich and handsome, the pauper maiden’s beauty beyond compare! Of course they’ll fall in love at first sight, and at some point they’ll dance in formal attire. Above all, they shall live Happily Ever After.

And so, she sat down to write.

Once upon a time .  .   .

No, no, no. Seems like she’d heard that somewhere. It wouldn’t do to be thought of as a plagiarist.

There once was a .  .   .

Not, that either. Too trite. Perhaps—

At that point, the writer’s own fair prince entered the room, slid his arms around her and nibbled at the tender flesh on her neck, making her giggle. The writer sighed, turning to receive tender kisses that caught fire.

The made-up fairy tale could wait awhile, she decided. Right now she was more interested in living her own fairy tale, basking in a union that had endured time, and staying in the place that made her happiest – in the arms of her love.