Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Night lights

"Tell me a story about Annabel, mama."

"Which one?"

"The one about the grass and the hole."

Ohhhh. ... That one. The GLASS and the HOLE, huh?"

"Yeah. Yeah. That one. Tell it, Mama. TELL IT."

"Okay. Okay. But you have to lie down and cuddle up with your blanket. ...

"Late one night, just after Annabel closed her eyes and went to sleep, a light pulsed out from a little hole in her bedroom wall.

As her breath deepened, the light became brighter and brighter until finally the Tinkerbell peeped out into the dark room. Now, Annabel was fast asleep so Tinkerbell danced herself out of her little hideaway. Light glittered in every corner of the room, sparkles dancing like dust motes.

"With the room filled with speckled light, Tinkerbell flutters from corner to corner, sliding silly, zaggity jibs. Spiraling raucous to imaginary sonatas. She's entertaining you in your sleep, and watching over you as you dream.

"Your breath catches, you chortle and churn. Her dancing stops and her light disappears under delicate wings. She is ready to zip back into that hole in the woodwork if you awaken. She hangs in the air until you settle again.

"One day, if you're very quiet, while you're sleeping you may catch sight of her, dancing away in the dark of your room."

"But what about the grass, mama? What about the grass?"

"Oh, yes. The glass. ...

"Well as night turns into morning, light makes its way through your window glass and you'll stretch into a new day, Tinkerbell will be sleeping down snug in her hole. She'll sleep through the day while her girl is out and about in world. You may not see her, but I think if you look closely you may find some glitter left behind."


So now it's your turn, dear friends, tell me your story.


stefanierj said...

Okay, what kind of crazy fancy camera do you have to take such amazing pics? Or are you just freakishly talented? Either way, it ain't fair.

Andrea said...

Your stories are so much better than mine. Gabe is entranced by stories of him riding on the back of our dog Maximus, who can fly. Maybe I should write stuff down and then read it to him like a bedtime story. But some of the most interesting stuff comes to me on the fly. I guess there's something to be said for improv.

Do you leave a speck or two of glitter behind for her to find?

toyfoto said...

Oh ... there's always glitter to be found at our house ... story or no story.

Anonymous said...

This reminds me how my mother used to tell me stories about fairies that lived in buttercups and washed their faces every morning with the dew.


Be Still said...

When I'm not tapped out, I tell the tale of the Mardi Gras bird who comes to stay with us while his nest is rebuilt. Jude feeds him a pb&j in exchange for a ride around town on his orange, purple and green feathered back.

Sadly, I'm so tired when I put Jude down that it seems like I don't have a drop of creativity left for good story-telling. That is why I'm so glad you shared your bedtime tale. I'll be borrowing a version of it tonight!

Tater and Tot said...

That is a great story! I think I'll borrow it for Tater and Tot. They will love it. Thanks for sharing!