A Story

In some far off world,

but not a world too different from our own,

where the grass is still green,

and the water is still blue,

and the sun is still hot,

there lived a tiny girl not bigger than your thumb, dressed in a lovely smock of clover leaves and dew beads.

A portly little hummingbird was her steed, and together they rode the calming eddies that passed over the White Mountains behind them.

From flower to flower,

from tree to tree,

they stopped only to admire the prettiest of flowers,

which they left untouched for the other tiny girls and their own hummingbird friends to admire as well.

One day, the tiny girl and her hummingbird steed found magnificent archway of morning glories, draped across a willow's branch.

Underneath the rich blue blossoms, which the hummingbird parted ever so gently with his shining yellow beak, the tiny girl spied a little boy nestled in the leaves, dressed in daisies and glistening spiders web.

He held his face in his tiny hands,

tear

after

tear

slipping down his pale fingers.

His steed, a slim, sprightly sparrow, was perched next to him, ruffling his brown feathers in a huffy sort of manner.

"Boy,"

Said the girl,

"Why are you crying?"

The tiny boy wiped his blue eyes with a soft flower petal, and sniffed.

"Because,"

Began the tiny boy,

"I have lost my home.

And this place is not like my home,

with its rolling fields,

and hot deserts,

and trickling springs.

And for that, I miss my home

very,

very,

much."

This would not do, thought the tiny girl.

How could a tiny person like herself not enjoy the deep oceans,

or tickling breezes like she did?

And besides, she had no idea where a desert was, or in fact, what a desert was, anyway.

So, the tiny girl said to the small boy,


"Come on, then!

My hummingbird steed and I will try to find your home.

And your, "dus-urt", whatever that is, anyway."

Together, she on her hummingbird steed, and he mounted on his puffy sparrow friend,

they tried to find his home.

They really did try,

until the sun dipped behind the clouds,

and the morning glories closed up for the night.

"Oh, this is hopeless!"

Sobbed the little boy.

"I will never find my home again!"

And they didn't.

The end.

I'm terrible at endings.

And middles.

And beginnings.