(no subject)

[dotinthesky]

There was once a princess who built a tower for herself. Day by day she lay the stones, until finally it stood like a watchtower over the cliffs of Moher. The tower stood alone over the Irish sea, a symbol for her prince to find.

She furnished the tower with books from across the world. Sitting by the fireplace, she would read anything: from law tracts to french poetry. She also played the mandoulin and sang about New York. To help the hours go by, she smoked cigarettes and drank. Bottles of vodka lay scattered on the floor or propped on bookshelves; a helmet sat by the window, converted into an ashtray. When she was bored of reading, she would stand by the window and look at the sea. Lights flickered in the distance, then disappeared. She hoped one of those lights would notice the glow of her fireplace, but none dared sail too close to the rocks that jutted by the cliffs.

Years went by without even a glimpse of the awaited prince. Her vodka stock was diminishing, and she was now burning the law books out of boredom. She covered the only mirror in the tower with a black veil because she was tired of her own company.

One day, while gazing at the beach, she saw a solitary little Egret. It waddled in the shallow waters, looking for small fish. When it noticed her watching him, the little Egret flapped its wings and flew to her window. She fed him some crumbs from her dinner, and gave him a sauce of vodka to drink from. The little Egret became her friend.

The years turned into decades and still she waited. Ireland changed, the suburbs grew. Children rode their bikes on the beach during Summer and pointed at the icy-haired lady watching them from above. All this time, she had been writing letters to her prince and tying them to the little Egret's foot. The bird always returned, the letters unopened.

One day, as she was readying herself to leave the tower for the first time, she tripped over her collection of U2 vinyl records and pulled the black veil off the mirror. The little Egret was standing right before it but, when she saw his reflection in the mirror, he had become a young man with unruly black hair.

"What is your name?" she stuttered.

"Julian" squawked the little Egret.

She took the bird into her arms and kissed his beak.

"Oh baby, I don't feel so right..." squawked the little Egret again.

The tower still stands in Moher. Nobody has ever dared set foot inside it. Local people say that sometimes, during the night, if the wind is blowing in the right direction, you can hear music coming from the tower... like a soft stroke inside your ears.

Comments

[icymorning.livejournal.com]

My mouth hurts - I laughed so hard. This is possibly one of the best pieces of writing I've been given to read the last couple of months. It's true, and very funny at the same time. You should start writing movie scenarios, cause I could totally picture the scene, the writing was so good.

Mind if I post it in my journal ? This is amazing. Thanks for giving me some of your time.

[commonpeople.livejournal.com]

You can do with it anything you want. It's yours. ♥

(thank you!)

Your Stories ROCK!

[myendeavorca.livejournal.com]

Oh that's a good idea. I'm posting my story too!

[i-am-scowling.livejournal.com]

hahahaha

/falls out of chair


ohhhh ollie-yollie :)

[commonpeople.livejournal.com]

*poke poke*

[i-am-scowling.livejournal.com]

squeeeee!