The Little Girl in the Pond
In a pond surrounded by a green, lush field there lived a little girl. Her eyes were the endless dark of a heart’s worst secret and the depths where sunlight never traveled. Her hair was the dark green of the snatching, wrapping weeds that lurked below the surface, just out of view.
The people in the nearby town brought her presents sometimes: flowers and toys and sweets. Every once in a while, on the most special nights when the moon rode high in the sky, they even brought her a friend.
The little girl loved those nights best of all. She would rise from the pond eagerly, her hair spreading on the silver-black water. Her new friend, held tightly on the shore on either side, would shake and whimper with excitement. She would glide on the surface until she got very close to the shore — close but never touching. She had only touched dry land once, when the people in the town had made her cross. The very next night, they brought her first new friend.
When she got close they would thrust her new friend at her and run away. She never minded the rudeness. She was always glad to get a new friend, no matter how much they wriggled and pushed. In time, they grew still. In time, they came to love their new home at the bottom of the deepest part of the pond.
In time, all she could see of them were their bone-white smiles.
When I saw this sketch in my Instagram feed a few days ago, my first thought was the first line of this story. I wrote it in my bullet journal and stowed in the back of my mind until it was ready. Today, it was ready. Thank you, Mikayla, for the art and the inspiration!
In other story news, I’ve been working steadily on another story that started out quite short but now seems to want to be somewhere around 6,000 words long. I’ve written roughly have that length now and probably have another 5,000 or so words to go. Then I’ll edit it back to a manageable length. I’m determined to finish this so I can share it with you straightaway. It’s a good story, about a kid and a plan and dragons. Those are things we like, right?