A few months later, into a more heavenly light.
Night young and bright. Almost evening, closing light.
Mother tucked her daughter under the covers, then forgot to tell her Aida a bedtime story. A song of the deer, running and playing. In little groups of dear mates, never an only child. For there was a group mind set, though not any type humans wrought. Rather that little known aspect of mother nature, that never went away as she aged into older years into her early preteens. She was two years younger then fourteen minus two. Aida began to drift, and appeared at the gate of the sands of grey. As she walked closer to the gate, she heard the sounds of ghoulish laughter. Like demons erupting from the earth, then the landscape gradually eased into a land of meadows where the grass was always green enough on both sides of plain.
There was a small cottage, that was cracked and torn. Yet despite it’s shell, it somehow gave the feeling of a world far better than hell. Where the there was always food, like the many apples from the trees with the leaves flowing in the breeze. In this world, she could get whatever she wanted. A blond woman, possibly in her early thirties, walked out of the door. “Aida, is time for breakfast. You don’t want to spoil that do you?” Aida chose not to pick the apple, and walked inside. She tripped on her left wooden shoe, her mother caught her just in time. They carefully walked inside.
After the meal, her mother let her sleep. Yet there was a storm brewing. Aida found herself in her school. She walked through the halls, of the school that was little more than a one room school house. The only other rooms where the restrooms, and that room that barely resembled what we would consider one. The school house was shaking. She looked through the window, with the other little girls. The sky was at first an orange heavenly glow, then at once began a whirlwind of destruction. Suddenly she paused out, as soon as the house went flying high high into the sky. Then her friends woke her up. “Wakey wakey, look outside. The school is flying.” Aida stared out of the window. Felt like she was going to fall.
“How long will be way up here?” she asked.
“All the way till the fall.” Aida wasn’t she if she was being serious or not.
“But I don’t want to stay till the fall, I will get hungry.” Aida said.
“Oh we will feed you.” said Reika.
Reika handed her an extra bowl, because Aida could not afford a lunch. It was a small lunch, but all the other girls got to have a small lunch. So it was OK. Yet when she tried a bite, Aida wondered what it was made off. Thus, resisted to spit it out. “What is in this bowl of soup.” Aida stared at her friend Reika. She was not sure, but she figured at least somebody at the school had to get there on the horse. But where were the horses? Aida wanted to know.
“We keep horses till the snow, we walk everywhere while in the air.” said Reika, holding her Teddy Bear. She handed to Aida, because she wanted to share the bear. “Yea it probably does taste like that, I was so heartbroken when they decided to slaughter Betsy.” Apparently, although Reika giggled about it.
“Betsy? Reika?” Aida was looking a little nervous.
“Why Betsy the horse, we killed after it could no longer perform in the cicurs.” Reika said. Then had a frown, “Sorry it was a joke. I’m not really sure what meat that is, it’s school meat I guess.” Reika told Aida that she would be back in a minute.
But that minute never came. Mother already woke her up.
“Honey, it’s time for school.” Her mother said. No, she wanted to play in the large pool of the ocean. In the village on the shore by the sea. Where the clothes were always drying in the wind, a place along the rising waves where she could swim to unwind. She could could not swim very well, and she almost fell under the sea again. Her hair lost it’s bind. She wanted to see Reika again someday, even though she did not exist. And could not exist, but she was there in her mind forever.
Her first true friend. It was a few months later, her village had new neighbors. Whenever they passed by her own the street. They passed abruptly in jolts, with blocks of brick on their feet. They hoped quickly going thud through the road of mud. Hop, hop, hop through the mud. “Who is that girl staring at us?” asked the father that was once the father of Victoria.
“Oh just another girl, she looks like our daughter. Don’t you think?” the wife said.
Like their child? What do they mean? She thought of herself as unique, she didn’t want to look like anyone else. Not at all. “How do you do?” said the father, who boarded the cart. Then whipped the horses, and rode way over to their house.
“I hope one of the horses isn’t named Betsy?” said Aida, the fussy Hetsy.
“Aida! Aida! Did you finally me the grumpy old people!” said Mosey. Then they walked together along the home along the dirt road. “So what’s been eating you?”
“Does anyone named their daughter’s Reika?”
“Well I don’t know.”
At home Aida finished her homework, then went back to bed. But she could not get to sleep, for she heard young deer running and playing. Spinning around in circles in twos and threes. “Where do you dear ever young, when you run and play?” said Aida. The deer sung:
Where the fields never wane,
Where the flowers, never turn to grey,
Where the lion with the mane,
Sleeps with the horse, and it’s bail
Of hay!
If only she could visit, where the field never turn to grey. And fly again in a flying school house, where the sky was always beneath them, and she was always higher than she ever been. When, she would have that dream again, she did not know. Merely hoped it would happen again soon some day.
Sometime before the snow.
It was the next week Aida decided to visit the neighbors, and although it was against her mother’s wishes, she wanted to visit them then swim with the fishes. At the house, she wanted to make a good impression. So not to dirty the carpet in their small cobble stone cottage, a change from their lost one that was slightly bigger, she placed her wooden shoes by the door. Aida knocked on the door. “Who is it, can you see I’m making a pie?” Aida heard a voice, barely beyond the snore from her guy on the couch, riding an old story book.
“May I help you make a pie?” Aida said. The lady stomped to the door.
“And who are you, I decry!?” said the old mother of Victoria.
“Hello! I’m your neighbor!” Aida said, trying to form a smile.
“Well so is the rest of them. Maybe next time.”
At home her mother lectured her about visited the neighbors, and by the time she finished her lecture it was already getting late. So she turned out the lights in the room, and left her daughter Aida to fate. Then Aida heard the dear rustling in the hedge brush, and saw that they were chewing upon the branches of the tree. Go away from me, fair dear for I want to sleep tonight thought Aida.
The next week she met the neighbors.
She helped them make a pie. Then she met her daughter. Not by any direct acquaintance, but rather from being introduced to the storybook read by the neighbors guy. “An old storybook my daughter used to love, I have been reading it since she left.”
“Where did your daughter go?” asked Aida
.
But before he could answer, the wife glowered at him.
“Maybe for another time.” said the father of Victoria.
But she still wondered, where did Victoria go? Then she went to her home, and her dreams of the girl her Victoria storybook. Where she reunited when Reika again, in some form where the girl reminded her of that girl of the dream, where the fields never turn to grey.
And hoped to meet Victoria, someday.
In a dream somewhere. She hummed the dears hum:
Where the fields never wane,
Where the flowers, never turn to grey,
Where the lion with the mane,
Sleeps with the horse, and it’s bail
Of hay!
Night young and bright. Almost evening, closing light.
Mother tucked her daughter under the covers, then forgot to tell her Aida a bedtime story. A song of the deer, running and playing. In little groups of dear mates, never an only child. For there was a group mind set, though not any type humans wrought. Rather that little known aspect of mother nature, that never went away as she aged into older years into her early preteens. She was two years younger then fourteen minus two. Aida began to drift, and appeared at the gate of the sands of grey. As she walked closer to the gate, she heard the sounds of ghoulish laughter. Like demons erupting from the earth, then the landscape gradually eased into a land of meadows where the grass was always green enough on both sides of plain.
There was a small cottage, that was cracked and torn. Yet despite it’s shell, it somehow gave the feeling of a world far better than hell. Where the there was always food, like the many apples from the trees with the leaves flowing in the breeze. In this world, she could get whatever she wanted. A blond woman, possibly in her early thirties, walked out of the door. “Aida, is time for breakfast. You don’t want to spoil that do you?” Aida chose not to pick the apple, and walked inside. She tripped on her left wooden shoe, her mother caught her just in time. They carefully walked inside.
After the meal, her mother let her sleep. Yet there was a storm brewing. Aida found herself in her school. She walked through the halls, of the school that was little more than a one room school house. The only other rooms where the restrooms, and that room that barely resembled what we would consider one. The school house was shaking. She looked through the window, with the other little girls. The sky was at first an orange heavenly glow, then at once began a whirlwind of destruction. Suddenly she paused out, as soon as the house went flying high high into the sky. Then her friends woke her up. “Wakey wakey, look outside. The school is flying.” Aida stared out of the window. Felt like she was going to fall.
“How long will be way up here?” she asked.
“All the way till the fall.” Aida wasn’t she if she was being serious or not.
“But I don’t want to stay till the fall, I will get hungry.” Aida said.
“Oh we will feed you.” said Reika.
Reika handed her an extra bowl, because Aida could not afford a lunch. It was a small lunch, but all the other girls got to have a small lunch. So it was OK. Yet when she tried a bite, Aida wondered what it was made off. Thus, resisted to spit it out. “What is in this bowl of soup.” Aida stared at her friend Reika. She was not sure, but she figured at least somebody at the school had to get there on the horse. But where were the horses? Aida wanted to know.
“We keep horses till the snow, we walk everywhere while in the air.” said Reika, holding her Teddy Bear. She handed to Aida, because she wanted to share the bear. “Yea it probably does taste like that, I was so heartbroken when they decided to slaughter Betsy.” Apparently, although Reika giggled about it.
“Betsy? Reika?” Aida was looking a little nervous.
“Why Betsy the horse, we killed after it could no longer perform in the cicurs.” Reika said. Then had a frown, “Sorry it was a joke. I’m not really sure what meat that is, it’s school meat I guess.” Reika told Aida that she would be back in a minute.
But that minute never came. Mother already woke her up.
“Honey, it’s time for school.” Her mother said. No, she wanted to play in the large pool of the ocean. In the village on the shore by the sea. Where the clothes were always drying in the wind, a place along the rising waves where she could swim to unwind. She could could not swim very well, and she almost fell under the sea again. Her hair lost it’s bind. She wanted to see Reika again someday, even though she did not exist. And could not exist, but she was there in her mind forever.
Her first true friend. It was a few months later, her village had new neighbors. Whenever they passed by her own the street. They passed abruptly in jolts, with blocks of brick on their feet. They hoped quickly going thud through the road of mud. Hop, hop, hop through the mud. “Who is that girl staring at us?” asked the father that was once the father of Victoria.
“Oh just another girl, she looks like our daughter. Don’t you think?” the wife said.
Like their child? What do they mean? She thought of herself as unique, she didn’t want to look like anyone else. Not at all. “How do you do?” said the father, who boarded the cart. Then whipped the horses, and rode way over to their house.
“I hope one of the horses isn’t named Betsy?” said Aida, the fussy Hetsy.
“Aida! Aida! Did you finally me the grumpy old people!” said Mosey. Then they walked together along the home along the dirt road. “So what’s been eating you?”
“Does anyone named their daughter’s Reika?”
“Well I don’t know.”
At home Aida finished her homework, then went back to bed. But she could not get to sleep, for she heard young deer running and playing. Spinning around in circles in twos and threes. “Where do you dear ever young, when you run and play?” said Aida. The deer sung:
Where the fields never wane,
Where the flowers, never turn to grey,
Where the lion with the mane,
Sleeps with the horse, and it’s bail
Of hay!
If only she could visit, where the field never turn to grey. And fly again in a flying school house, where the sky was always beneath them, and she was always higher than she ever been. When, she would have that dream again, she did not know. Merely hoped it would happen again soon some day.
Sometime before the snow.
It was the next week Aida decided to visit the neighbors, and although it was against her mother’s wishes, she wanted to visit them then swim with the fishes. At the house, she wanted to make a good impression. So not to dirty the carpet in their small cobble stone cottage, a change from their lost one that was slightly bigger, she placed her wooden shoes by the door. Aida knocked on the door. “Who is it, can you see I’m making a pie?” Aida heard a voice, barely beyond the snore from her guy on the couch, riding an old story book.
“May I help you make a pie?” Aida said. The lady stomped to the door.
“And who are you, I decry!?” said the old mother of Victoria.
“Hello! I’m your neighbor!” Aida said, trying to form a smile.
“Well so is the rest of them. Maybe next time.”
At home her mother lectured her about visited the neighbors, and by the time she finished her lecture it was already getting late. So she turned out the lights in the room, and left her daughter Aida to fate. Then Aida heard the dear rustling in the hedge brush, and saw that they were chewing upon the branches of the tree. Go away from me, fair dear for I want to sleep tonight thought Aida.
The next week she met the neighbors.
She helped them make a pie. Then she met her daughter. Not by any direct acquaintance, but rather from being introduced to the storybook read by the neighbors guy. “An old storybook my daughter used to love, I have been reading it since she left.”
“Where did your daughter go?” asked Aida
.
But before he could answer, the wife glowered at him.
“Maybe for another time.” said the father of Victoria.
But she still wondered, where did Victoria go? Then she went to her home, and her dreams of the girl her Victoria storybook. Where she reunited when Reika again, in some form where the girl reminded her of that girl of the dream, where the fields never turn to grey.
And hoped to meet Victoria, someday.
In a dream somewhere. She hummed the dears hum:
Where the fields never wane,
Where the flowers, never turn to grey,
Where the lion with the mane,
Sleeps with the horse, and it’s bail
Of hay!
