Alchemy of a Princess
Emily’s mum could scold something fierce when she had a mind to. “Pay attention! Get your head out of that book! Stop dreaming away your life! Go outside!” That last admonishment was the one Emily had been anticipating. “Going!” {Gone.}
Sitting in her favorite tree, Emily pondered the strange kaleidoscope of her life. “Don’t think too much of yourself! That’s ego! Leave everything to God! Do well in school…” and, when Emily brought home stellar marks, “We’re proud of you… but in the right way.” Even then, Emily wondered what in blazes was the right way. Was there a right way? Ever? Weren’t there infinite ways to be?
Each tree had its way. Each creature had its ways and means. Why couldn’t she be content with the way she chose to be? Sliding her back against the trunk of her friend, the silver birch, she let the constant pressure fade away through sunlit leaves, glowing their infinite shades of green against a blue and cloud-fluffed sky.
Who wanted to be a Princess, anyway? Emily was fairly sure they weren’t allowed to climb trees, or to fall asleep among the branches.
Funny how we know we’re dreaming, even as we live out the dream.
Everything was all greyish, a sure sign, if ever there was one, that Emily was dreaming. Real happenings in other planes of existence happened in color, no matter what they…
