Sleeping Stupid and the Spectacular Spindle
It wasn’t my fault she pricked her finger. I mean, I was just sitting around, minding my own business, and she had to waltz right in and jab herself. I guess I could have gotten up and walked out of her way. Oh, wait. I can’t. Spindles don’t have legs. This is all on you, lady.
I mean, no one has been up in this dreary tower room for years. We’re talking sixteen years, ever since the king had me moved up here. I’m the last spindle in the kingdom, the world’s most precious treasure. I’ve had a good life, no work, just peaceful contemplation. I like it up here, in fact. It’s not like I’ve been lurking, waiting around to draw blood from the first human I see. As far as I’m concerned, they can all just leave me be, thank you very much. If you want to go pricking your finger and falling into some melodramatic faint, be my guest. But don’t blame me. Did I curse you instead of giving you a gift when you were a baby? Did I drag you away from your family and raise you in poverty in the woods? No? See, I’m not the cause of any of your problems.
Boy, humans can be weird. No one comes into a room for sixteen years, and then some blonde decides to prick her finger and faint. And whadda-you-know, some fancy looking dude in a swishy cape has to come leaping in after her. I sure hope he didn’t have the flu or a cold sore, ‘cause he planted a big one on her. I’m talking full lip lock, people. I would have closed my eyes, except that’s kind of hard when you don’t have eyes. Ya know? And when she woke up, she was all like, “oooo, you saved me!” From what!? Come on, people, I’m not dangerous, I’m just a spindle! You would have thought there was a witch determined to kill her and enslave her people the way she was acting!
A few days later I heard a lot of bells and cheering. Sounded like a wedding, if you ask me. A big wedding, the kind that they’d have for a prince and a princess. Not that I was listening for one, or anything. I never get interested in human affairs. They can’t go blaming me if they decided to get married. I’m no match making spindle!
I mean, no one has been up in this dreary tower room for years. We’re talking sixteen years, ever since the king had me moved up here. I’m the last spindle in the kingdom, the world’s most precious treasure. I’ve had a good life, no work, just peaceful contemplation. I like it up here, in fact. It’s not like I’ve been lurking, waiting around to draw blood from the first human I see. As far as I’m concerned, they can all just leave me be, thank you very much. If you want to go pricking your finger and falling into some melodramatic faint, be my guest. But don’t blame me. Did I curse you instead of giving you a gift when you were a baby? Did I drag you away from your family and raise you in poverty in the woods? No? See, I’m not the cause of any of your problems.
Boy, humans can be weird. No one comes into a room for sixteen years, and then some blonde decides to prick her finger and faint. And whadda-you-know, some fancy looking dude in a swishy cape has to come leaping in after her. I sure hope he didn’t have the flu or a cold sore, ‘cause he planted a big one on her. I’m talking full lip lock, people. I would have closed my eyes, except that’s kind of hard when you don’t have eyes. Ya know? And when she woke up, she was all like, “oooo, you saved me!” From what!? Come on, people, I’m not dangerous, I’m just a spindle! You would have thought there was a witch determined to kill her and enslave her people the way she was acting!
A few days later I heard a lot of bells and cheering. Sounded like a wedding, if you ask me. A big wedding, the kind that they’d have for a prince and a princess. Not that I was listening for one, or anything. I never get interested in human affairs. They can’t go blaming me if they decided to get married. I’m no match making spindle!
No comments have been added yet.
