(no subject)
So I wanted to write a fairy tale.
But it's not really a fairy tale.
I don't know what it is.
..................................................................................
Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived with the faeries, up in the sky. They made their home in a small colony on the side of the rainbow that didn't belong to Dorothy. The girl's name was Mingo.
A very long time ago, she had lived with her parents down on the cold ground in a city by the sea. This was when she was knee-high to a grasshopper. Back then, Mingo was always happy. She understood beauty better than any 3-year-old.
Her father wan an artist. He dreamed his whole life. Everything was wonderful then. He clothed his daughter in every colour that he could create.
Mingo's mother was an actress: a true movie star. She was the post-Marilyn, in all ways. There was something exotic about her that no one could pinpoint, no matter how hard they tried. They were such a happy family, with flashes from cameras going off in their eyes, brighter than the Los Angeles lights.
But nothing beautiful lasts forever.
Sooner or later, Daryl's mom got into self-medication. Roxanne tried to fix all of her hurts with substance. It didn't work. She OD'd on cocaine at age 32. Her beauty was still shone vibrantly in her coffin, black as the night was.
Mingo's father was overwhelmed with grief. He stopped painting with colours, and stopped smiling. He didn't want his daughter to see him like this, so he sent her to live with the faeries in the sky.
Now Mingo was 16, and had grown to be even more beautiful than her mother, with auburn hair and bronzed skin that sparkled in the light. She grew weary of the world in the sky, despite it's tranquility and loveliness. Daryl had plans. Things that she wanted to do. To follow in her mother's footsteps, and become a cotton candy screen queen; more famous even than Britney Spears.
.........
to be continued.
But it's not really a fairy tale.
I don't know what it is.
..................................................................................
Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived with the faeries, up in the sky. They made their home in a small colony on the side of the rainbow that didn't belong to Dorothy. The girl's name was Mingo.
A very long time ago, she had lived with her parents down on the cold ground in a city by the sea. This was when she was knee-high to a grasshopper. Back then, Mingo was always happy. She understood beauty better than any 3-year-old.
Her father wan an artist. He dreamed his whole life. Everything was wonderful then. He clothed his daughter in every colour that he could create.
Mingo's mother was an actress: a true movie star. She was the post-Marilyn, in all ways. There was something exotic about her that no one could pinpoint, no matter how hard they tried. They were such a happy family, with flashes from cameras going off in their eyes, brighter than the Los Angeles lights.
But nothing beautiful lasts forever.
Sooner or later, Daryl's mom got into self-medication. Roxanne tried to fix all of her hurts with substance. It didn't work. She OD'd on cocaine at age 32. Her beauty was still shone vibrantly in her coffin, black as the night was.
Mingo's father was overwhelmed with grief. He stopped painting with colours, and stopped smiling. He didn't want his daughter to see him like this, so he sent her to live with the faeries in the sky.
Now Mingo was 16, and had grown to be even more beautiful than her mother, with auburn hair and bronzed skin that sparkled in the light. She grew weary of the world in the sky, despite it's tranquility and loveliness. Daryl had plans. Things that she wanted to do. To follow in her mother's footsteps, and become a cotton candy screen queen; more famous even than Britney Spears.
.........
to be continued.