Tuesday, July 9, 2013
"When did this all get to be so very, terribly serious?" asks Trudy, wielding a rusted Bottle cap flower wand.
She eyes me with concern, her mouth dancing sideways.
"You have misplaced your SILLY," she gasps, recognizing my apparent deficit.
I do not have an opportunity to respond, cognitive slowing, evidently.
I do not have a chance to get a word in.
Trudy has already waved her wand at me,
casting her best silly spell, and in response I...
I emit a bubble of a giggle.
A burp of a chuckle.
A lightness, like feathers around my heart.
"Thanks Trudy," I say with some relief, my cognition coming up to speed.
"I needed that."
Trudy is a Fey from the Land of the Baggaraggs.
She is made of coffee dyed muslin, and pink gingham. Her trims are vintage, except her wings which are cut from a child's pinafore. She has painted, cloth covered wire arms and legs.
She is 14 inches tall and has a loop for hanging.
She also sports a rusted and painted bottle cap wand. Perfect for banishing heavy thoughts and cognitive slowing. (DEPRESSION, in other words.)