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“Very well then. There once was a girl with a curious nature and naive intentions. She witnessed a world no one believed existed and told tales no one wanted to listen to.” I sip my tea, settling back into the plump cushions as another wave of sleep washes over me. “You know what, it’s easier in rhyme if you don’t mind.” Cash’s dark chuckle tells me he doesn’t mind. In fact, he’ll probably prefer it.
They laughed at her you see
when she spoke her fictions,
The headlines raged; the mockery plagued
And doctors made false predictions.
She tried to escape the ridicule
Tried to flee the strife
And when that failed, her sanity bailed
In attempts to take her life.
Since the real world lacked adventure
And beings that proved kind
The girl turned to her father
Praying the truth he’d find.
Yet in his bid to leave a legacy
He came to a conclusion
To grab the nearest typewriter
And take note of her delusions.
A yawn stretchesmy mouth wide as Cash lifts the empty cup from my hand. I snuggle down further until his head is nestled on my breast, the sweet lull of dreams calling to me as I rush to finish my narrative.
The girl was outraged,
utterly betrayed
As he took note of her story.
So she stole a knife,
stabbed him twice
And in doing so,
took back her glory.
7
Waking, it takes me a full minute to realize I’m jostling. My whole body being thrown up and down like a bouncy castle, except the landing beneath me isn’t soft and welcoming. It’s hard as shit and no doubt going to need spinal correction. Pushing myself upright, the next bump beneath me sends my head crashing into the roof of whatever I’m concealed inside. Other than one circle of light bleeding through a hole before me, darkness claws at my wild hair. I can feel the shear height of it from each bump and subconsciously, I reach up to check Stan is okay. The empty gap behind my ear draws a sharp breath from my lungs.
“Stan? STAN?!” I cry out, peering directly into the light. My retinas burn but I hold strong, spying the length of the tunnel that curves upwards. I try to wriggle through but it’s too thin so I continue to shout inside.
“Your rat’s fine,” the booming voice sends me flying back onto my ass from the earth-shattering rumble. I’d recognize it anywhere, but why it’s so damn loud is beyond me. Enough’s enough! Feeling out the crevice of a lid, I brace my hands on the roof and shoot upright on my legs.Pop. Blinded by sunlight that beats on my skin in a rush of heat, I lift a hand to spot the intricately patterned tea pot holding me.
“Why is this fucking tea pot so big?” I ask, spotting the firm hand gripped around its handle. Tracking said hand with my eyes, up the attached arm to the heart tattoo flourishing from a giant chest, I frown. Wait… “Why the fuck am I so small?”
