I was sitting unsuspecting in the ladies' room this evening when two short people (ages three and five) in matching Barbie Cheerleader outfits invaded. They were not, however, pretending to be Barbies. No, they were princesses of some sort (they could not remember their pretend names) and did not let nature's call stall (no pun intended) their fantasy. I kept as quiet as I could, so that I would not scare them back to reality.
The fantasy unfolded before my ears. The two princesses were apparently in great mourning, as over the course of our stay in the ladies' room, several of their fellow royal children were struck down by either plague or witches' curses. (their mothers were the witches, oddly enough).
What struck me as a harbinger of this century, however, was actually that the death notices came via text message. No joke! Some previously dead prince named Peter kept texting them with sad tidings. Whatever happened to scrolls? Heralds? The Pony Express? Sigh.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
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2 comments:
Ah, inspiration has returned, I'm very glad
roflol
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