Once upon a time (a very, very long time ago), in the mysterious forests of Lincoln, New Brunswick, there lived a little girl whose hair was kind of curly, but not at all yellow. She was a rather unusual girl, being fond of rather unusual things such as prunes and subtitles and having a strong aversion to skittles and milk. Despite her oddities, all the young gentlemen in the village attempted to court her, and she would willingly, foolishly, give away large quantities of affection. None of them, however, were ever quite satisfied with her, and she eventually came to the startling realization that she had never really liked any of them in the first place. The girl had spent her whole life dreaming of the day when a magically gorgeous man would ride up to her door on a unicorn, whisking her off down the street, buying her a glass of water, and proceeding to dance the night away with her. All these silly village boys had done, however, was send her out into traffic on a bicycle, force her to drink a glass of milk, and criticize her dancing skills. She finally was so discouraged with boys and so frustrated with living in the dark, cold dungeon of her not-so-evil-sister’s house that she packed all her belongings into three large suitcases and flew across the ocean in a make-believe hot air balloon. The balloon landed on an island so shrouded with mist that it was impossible to tell, at first glance, whether or not it was inhabited at all. She hoped that it wasn’t, so that she wouldn’t have to talk to any boys or sisters, but as it turned out, there was a large population of humans alive there, and the girl found some other little girls who let her live with them in their little yellow house, where they happily enjoyed the luxuries of carpeted bedroom floors and a purple padded toilet seat.
The girl was very happy for a few hours, but the more she wandered around the island, the more she realized how tragic it was to be alone in a strange place without anyone to love you. She longed for someone to turn their head when she pointed at something excitedly, or to look both ways with her before she illegally crossed the street, or to eat the larger half of her cookie whenever the only food in sight happened to be cookies. She was also a little bit sad that everyone on this island was so excited about fresh vegetables (they must eat so many of them, since she could never find any in the grocery store), but that is another story for another time. She wandered around all day, and all the next day, and when she came home in the evening the only thing she found she was motivated to do was get in bed and listen to the soundtrack of Les Misérables until she fell asleep and dreamed about French bread, and all the things she had ever misplaced that she wished she would find again someday.
On the seventeenth day she had been living on the island, she was so lonely that her heart felt as though a little man with a fireplace poker were chipping away on it. She was also soaking wet, having walked outside for a very long time, this being what one does when one’s heart is being prodded at by a fireplace poker. When she came in from the rain that evening, however, the other girls in the little yellow house were busy getting ready to go to a birthday party and they were all wondering whether or not she would love to join them. She was very unhappy, but she decided to go anyway. The party was one of the most uneventful she had ever attended, but after she had a few glasses of peach juice she felt a little bit like dancing, so she followed the other girls downtown, with a silent vow to turn back immediately should she be accosted by any boy that smelled of garlic bread. They arrived downtown, where the street was lined with bars and crowded with people, and after dancing themselves silly in one bar that had uneven floorboards and drinking coffee in another bar that was full of old men, they settled into a third location and started to dance some more. The girl was surprised to notice that even though she could still feel the little man chipping away inside of her, she was actually starting to enjoy herself, dancing and laughing with the other girls who lived in the little yellow house.
Suddenly, as she glanced around the crowded room, another pair of eyes locked with her own and her head filled with unicorns. And, at that very moment, the little man poking at her heart dropped dead of a heart attack. Her surroundings disintegrated and she felt nothing but invisible strings pulling her across the floor towards the most gorgeous human being she had ever laid eyes on. Their arms entwined and their faces became very close to one another and he told her to close her eyes, and they kissed her for what felt like much longer than the twenty-one years she had already experienced. Then he whisked her out onto the street and bought her a glass of water and they discovered things about each other, like how much they both liked prunes and subtitles, and how much neither of them liked drinking milk. Finally they went back in to the bar and danced for the rest of the night and were very sad when they had to leave each other.
The next day, the rain poured and the wind raged but the girl was not sad. There were beautiful birds flying in the sky, and beautiful flowers growing in the middle of the road, and beautiful people telling her they liked her mittens, and during the night someone had snuck into her chest and stuck all the chipped pieces of her heart back together.
She had found everything she had ever been looking for and it was the most beautiful feeling and all she could wonder was how she had been on the island for eighteen days already without ever noticing the beautiful people and the beautiful flowers and all the beautiful birds.
She had found everything she had ever been looking for and it was the most beautiful feeling and all she could wonder was how she had been on the island for eighteen days already without ever noticing the beautiful people and the beautiful flowers and all the beautiful birds.
