My mum thought they were blessings. She told me the story often enough – the three fairies darting through the window, waving their wands over me. The three blessings:
“May birds always flit about her and fill her days with song”.
“May flowers spring wherever she walks”.
“May her life be filled with laughter”.
See? I know them off by heart. They don’t seem much like blessings to me, though.
I was politely asked to leave school after the first day. Lily says there are still hollyhocks growing where my desk was, and they have to mow the dining hall once a week to keep the daisies down.
Even if I was in school, nobody would want to play with me. It’s those stupid birds, flapping and pooping and standing on people’s heads. It’s OK when it’s blue-tits, not so great when it’s pigeons. And once it was a flock of geese.
Lots of laughter, though. Who wouldn’t laugh at the girl who leaves a trail of honeysuckle up the High Street?
So this is where I come most days. I sit with my feet in the water and watch the water lilies flower and float away, like little boats off on an adventure. It’s quite boring, really. But I have a good view of the road here, and I’m waiting, because one day someone will come – a fairy queen, or a witch in disguise, or a handsome prince. Someone who can lift these stupid spells.
This is for Jane Dougherty’s microfiction challenge. Number 14 – unbelievable. She’s given us this intriguing image, and some words that I’ve chosen to ignore. The picture is Spring by Harald Slott-Moller. I hope it all works out for her.