I’m a busy woman.
It started back when I wasn’t yet able to read, which was part of the problem.
Dad worked as custodian at a mountain retreat. In early spring, mid-week, there were no strangers around, so I got to play on the hillside between the main building, now empty, and the weaving workshop.
Nothing bloomed there. Black skinny branches laced sand without leaves and only a few thorns. I knew about the silky blue flowers over in the forest, but I had to stay put where my dad could see me.
Now I got really busy. I had to do everything myself. I had to be princess, prince, and dragon.
Princesses, I was told, didn’t do much. So, as princess, I typically parked myself somewhere to dream and wait and let the other two have at it.
As prince I waited, too, but I was alert and my imaginary sword gleamed with imaginary sparks beneath the real sun.
As dragon I was furious. Understandable, really, when you’re always considered the bad guy. So I rushed about and roared and fumed and spewed imaginary fire. I was undaunted, though, despite the probability that I would one day be defeated.
Not much has changed. The last straw is that I’m expected to love myself. I mean, does loving yourself even count?
Princess, Prince, Dragon by Beate Sigriddaughter
Filed under Beate Sigriddaughter
6 responses to “Princess, Prince, Dragon by Beate Sigriddaughter”
Wow, one of those life-revelations that make you screech to a stop and wonder. Nice work, Beate.
yes. it’s hard to pull off ending a story with a question, but your ending slayed it.
You always slay it, Beate! What a terrifically creative take on the theme. I love this piece. And that ending is just so hard, and perfect.
Every time I read something you’ve written it seems so authentic, as though you only ever write the truth. I love this piece, gutsy and lonely all at once.
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