Oh, gloomy Sunday, I do believe its time for tea... Hortense Who Loved To Stomp There was a girl once who loved nothing more than to stomp around, with a scowl on her face, dark eyes blazing fire. You see, Hortense found this world, her world, so terribly unfair. She would have shared this knowledge with all and sundry but, of course, no one would have cared. And so, instead, she stomped, scowled, grumbled, snarled and curled her lip in utter disdain.There were no silver linings to her clouds, nor knights in shining armour or fairy godmothers for that matter. What, you may wonder, had led this little soul onto so miserable a path. A string of disappointments? Plans laid waste? Bitter experience? To tell you the truth, I suspect she just rather liked it that way! Those, of a decidedly optimistic bent, were inclined to say that at least if you expect the worst you will be rarely disappointed. These words of thoughtfulness, of kindness, were infinitely worse than any disappointment. For words of this ilk, rubbed salt into wounds and sickened her soul, rather like buttercream spread too thick on a birthday cake. It was almost harvest time, ripening fruits hung on the boughs growing fatter and sweeter in the summer sun. Hortense was exceptionally partial to a crunchy apple, for picked at the right time they held just enough sour to spoil the sweet. On her trudge through a somewhat neglected orchard, Hortense noted that some apples wither on the branch long before the harvest. How unfair! thought she To begin to rot before youre fully grown. At last, she spied a tree laden with large fruit, picked up a stick and knocked at the apples shaded by the unpruned foliage above them. Hortense knew that the tartness, of those unkissed by the sun, would be just what she needed. I would very much like to tell you that Hortense munched away happily, but that would be another girl in another tale. Instead, she sucked her cheeks, furrowed her brow and shuddered at the sour fruit in her mouth. The savouring of her discomfort was rudely interrupted by a slight niggle of disconcernment, as an unusual fluttery texture rolled along her tongue and slipped down her throat. In time, the niggle was forgotten only to be replaced by a gnawing pain, which, I suppose, is to be expected if one persists in eating unripened apples! Muttering to herself, Hortense curled into a ball to ease her stomach ache. The Governessa beheld a curious sight when she found this little one, for a tiny worm crawled out of the socket that once held one of Hortenses glowering eyes. Cochliomiya Homnivorax, how unfortunate... Mused the Governessa as she prepared Hortense for her journey to the Old Willow tree.
Posted on: Sun, 29 Jun 2014 11:23:59 +0000
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