The silly man danced to the door
and sang to me gratitude for
clothes he could wear on his nose
to aid it whenever it froze
I laughed from my place on the floor
and sang my own thanks and much more,
especially for my garden hose
to spray silly men when I chose
‘Ho ho, that’s neither or nor,’
said the wet silly man at the door,
‘My socks may be wet, I suppose,
but dry is my finely clothed nose.’
The magic fish removed its spectacles, placed them on the bedside table, doused the glow lamp, and settled back with a sigh to sleep. Sleep, however,refused to visit. The constant drip, drip, drip of air bubbles blurping up from the faucet in the bathroom tap, tap, tapped on the magic fish’s brain. Drat, thought the magic fish, I need plenty of sleep. Tomorrow no doubt I’ll probably have to deal with that fisherman’s greedy wife again or some equally obnoxious fool. The magic fish swam from bed to bathroom and tightened the tap with all it was worth and a few bars more. Such was its effort that its scales glistened like a rainbow. There, muttered the satisfied fish, that’s got it. Returning to bed, the magic fish burrowed down in comfort, sighing again, this time with bliss. Sleep visited, touching the magic fish with its soothing wand of peace. Elsewhere, the greedy wife of the fisherman spent a sleepless night concocting some newly ridiculous demand.
What if Gretel of Hansel and Gretel fame kept a diary? Let’s pretend she did, and then let’s pretend she wrote the entry below.
Well, diary, that was a near disaster. The witch caught me writing in you! She asked what mischief I was making. So I quick thought and told her I was writing down recipe ideas for baked boy. I know, stupid. But not as stupid as the witch. She BELIEVED me and tottered off cackling. I don’t know how much longer we can keep fooling her with the chicken bone substitute for Hansel’s finger, even if she is really stupid. She grows impatient. My charcoal stub is wearing down to nothing, diary. I’ll have to sneak a new piece from the oven. The oven. Hmm, I wonder.
Now the picture below could very well be the start of a ‘once upon a time’ story, couldn’t it? Can’t you imagine an adventurous elf or gremlin or an eager young bigfoot looking to follow that trail to new and wondrous places? Like maybe:
‘Once upon a time and early in the morning, Selvo, young bigfoot maiden, bid her family farewell and set off alone, as was bigfoot custom, to seek her fortune.’