Proppian fairy tale
10.08.2008

"Sugar and spice," the old woman beckoned as she held out palms filled with cinnamon falling between her fingers like sand. As she sprinkled it across the floor my head swum up in a dizzy spell of hunger. I could no longer control my feet moving towards the cheap gimmicks of an old woman.

"Take that needle and pin it to the inside of your shirt. From then no one will be able to touch you without feeling the hurt of needles on the bare sides of their palms"

The woman in dragon scales glided up the mountain and vanished in the mists. The needle bade me to follow her snow white hairs that glistened like silver strands of dew.

When he placed his hand upon me he let out a great cry and then vanished into the earth.

I watched as my magic needle pricked a hole in the tree trunk large enough for me to hide in. Without knowing where I had gone my pursuer stopped in its search disappeared, leaving behind an abundance of pears for me to take.

When I returned home Mother was not there. Instead, there was a man leaning against our door, sipping guava juice through a straw. He told me the lady of the house had left to search for her son, and that he had taken residence. I looked down on him and winced. His feet stank of manure.

"If you are my son then where are your father's leather bottomed shoes and ring?"

Without hesitance I lifted my pant legs began to dance in father's leather bottomed shoes. The soles breezed across the floor, cutting the mist with rhythmic motions. I then turned the ring on my finger and watched my father rise, soil shedding from his skin. His shaved face and clean hands stood against the paling crowd. This impressed the people who stood before me, as did the fact that my tongue did not bleed from the needle it held.


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