mymechanicalbird

Smile! You’re at the best WordPress.com site ever


Leave a comment

CINDY AND THE SHRINK


Cinderella

(a quick sketch based on this story!)

 

The prim looking woman leaned forward over her desk when the young girl walked in. She had never seen anyone like this girl. Her mass of golden brown hair was twirled up on her head like rolled up spaghetti on a fork, she wore a tiara like a princess, that hung slightly askew. She had a round, face and pale, blue, eyes that were laced with a dusting of longing. She also wore a ball gown, and dainty little shoes with sharp points that poked out from under her skirt like little fox-faces, as she stepped regally into the room.
“Well please don’t goggle like that, I’m your three ‘o’ clock appointment.” The princess said. The prim lady, shut her gaping mouth, pursed her lips, and smoothed her magenta waistcoat out over her knees, breathing a hearty sigh.
“So your….Cindy then?” She asked looking at a clipboard.
“Princess Cinderella, if you please.” The young girl beamed.
“Your-” The lady began, but she replaced the rest with a sigh, and continued with a different note. “Please take a seat,” She gestured towards a smooth, velvety couch, the kind one might drape themselves dramatically over, and that’s just what Cinderella did. Her puffy, pink, dress however, did not cooperate attractively, and her hoop was bent outwards in a funny angle.
“I’m Dr. Merryweather.” The lady said,
“Oh I know! Sleeping beauty referred me to you!” Cinderella said, perking up, like she was being so smart that she deserved a cookie, but after the realization that she would not, in fact, be getting a sugar cookie out of it, she slouched back over the couch.
After murmuring about never having met a Sleeping Beauty in her life, Dr. Merryweather said “Okay so, you are here today for, help, for me to help you get past you phycological restraints, and help you work through you problems. Sit back, relax, and start at the beginning, also please tell me any important pin points in you life.”
“Well….I’m really here because of my nasty sisters! They caused me so much trauma!” Cinderella began.
“You blame your sisters for this? Well I suppose I would too if they made me do all those chores…” Dr. Merryweather said thoughtfully.
“Hey! How did you know?! I haven’t even gotten to that part yet!” Cinderella said throwing a hand to her rosy cheek.
“I…er…erm…I…Saw the disney movie…” Said Dr.Merryweather awkwardly.
“What? Oh….never mind, I’ll just get the good part.” Sighed Cinderella. “So my fairy god mother gave me till midnight of gorgeous clothes for the ball, so then I met this prince, he was quite…er….handsome, so when the clock struck twelve,” Cinderella clicked her tongue and said, “Dong!” And then resumed her story, “I had to leave this guy! he could’ve been my one chance for happiness, and I had to leave him!”
“This is all very troubling, but if I do recall, you and the prince were married…” Dr.Merryweather said.
“Oh of course, all that matters is the happy ending! Not the traumatizing night of doubt before! All we care about are the pumpkins and the pretty dresses! Not the whole watching your sisters try to steal the man you had dibs on bit! Not the cuts from those blasted glass slippers that completely undid three months of sneaking foot smoothing cream from you evil stepmother BIT!” Cinderella flared sarcastically.
“I see your point.” Said Dr. Merryweather scrawling something close to ‘nut job’ on her clipboard. “Now what do you think had the biggest impact on your life.”
“I haven’t even gotten to that bit yet sister!” Cinderella said, putting her hand on her hip.
“Well could you please get to that ‘bit’? We only have about thirty minutes left in out session.
“Okay so, the prince finally finds me, and says, ‘We are to be married!’ And I’m like, ‘No! I barely know you I mean…I’m like sixteen!’ And the prince is all like ‘If the shoes fits wear it! and-”
“Could you please move on, I think I get the picture.” Dr. Merryweather asked, underlining the words ‘nut job’ in a red sharpy.
“So anyways, we were married, and everything was good, we had agreed to at least try the palace lifestyle, and Snowy said I could stay with her and the dwarves for a bit if I ever needed to just…. you know….. get away from it all for a few days.”
“So you are still being tormented by the fact that, you married him so rashly?”
“No! It’s the foot cream,” Cinderella said sarcastically, “Of course that’s it!”
“What else is bothering you?” Asked Dr. Merryweather, biting her pen and staring at the clock.
“Well it’s just, my sisters want to come stay with me, and It’s dredging up some bad memories, I just don’t know how to say no to them, you know? I’ve been saying yes to them all my life.”
“Just be a strong woman, declare you independent choices and say no to your sisters, spend more time with the prince, and let your grudges ebb away, without letting yourself be a pushover.”
“I love you!” Cinderella said, hugging the doctor, “You have good advice, much better than that other psychiatrist, Flora….eek! anyways, I have to go, see you next week at the same time to discuss my fear of mice! Bye!” Cinderella then, instead of walking out the door, walked over to the book case and let her fingers move across the spines of the books, he forefinger finally stopped on one, large, leather bound one, “Aha!” She exclaimed.
“Will you be leaving? Would you er…like a ride?” Dr.Merryweather asked awkwardly.
“Oh no! you silly goose, I’ve managed to find Snow-white, I’ll walk from there.” She opened the book with her slender, gloved, hand, and leaped from the third dimension, right onto the page of the book. Soon, to the doctor’s amazement, she was reaching up and yanking the words, ‘horse drawn carriage,’ and whistling, soon, six gleaming horses and a carriage appeared and she clambered in, disappearing onto another page.
The doctor scratch her head, maybe I’m the nut job…” She said quietly, and leaving the book Snow-White open on her desk, she walked out of the room to get her afternoon coffee.

Advertisements


Leave a comment

A POEM BY ME.


As spellbinding summer turns into the fall,
And the air soon becomes thin, and papery,
You look through the tattered old dreams of the past
The ones you let hang there like drapery.
You wonder sometimes as you bask in the glow,
Of passions that you’ve left behind,
If ever there was any worth in the things,
That cease to be polished and shined.
And folding like fabric, are patches and things,
Of lifetimes and of taking chances,
The florally patterned one, sewn to your heart,
The remnants of lore-like romances.
And after the searching of merriest times,
And after the odd spurt of tears,
You come to the place where nothing it seems,
Is more vulnerable than your fears.
So if you don’t mind every once in a while,
Have a swim in the tumbling, dark, stream,
That so long ago has passed under the bridge,
Or maybe not as long as would seem.


Leave a comment

Jar Of Buttons


jarOn the desk there was a jar of buttons. Nothing remarkable, at least not at first glance. It has all the trademark qualities, in fact, I believe it has the old-lady’s-basement smell down to a fine art. And it was acquired in a usual manner, (with a spurt of impatience to collect for years, a five dollar bill, and an antique store) It even has the usual mismatched-button-jar residents. Like old Joe as I like to call him, he fell off of a trench coat in a dark alley during a shady deal, (he doesn’t like to talk about it) he’s your usual scuffed up, grey, button, four holes,(makes for easy sewing). And then there are buttons like that red one. Some call her posy, because she is a masterful melted-moulded-plastic depiction of three posies, I’m not sure if that’s quite a pocketful but I guess it depends on pocket size. Posy may have fallen off of 86 year old Muriel’s red cardigan on her way to the mailbox one rainy Tuesday in April.

I find buttons fascinating. And I find button jars even more fascinating, they aren’t just full of shiny plastic circles, I believe they are full of potential and personality, and that a button jar is one of the best five dollar investments, I have ever made.