A Fairy Tale A La Zeldaru

Entry 16 (Day 22-25)

A brunette princess stood by the glistening sea, deflecting the sun’s light diffusely. The sun hung in mid-day, deluging her with heat. She wiped her forehead and turned away from the sea. Without a shadow to hide behind, the princess retreated in a relatively linear path along the dirt road leading to the castle; her concern for the hem of her dress seemed to be null given the accumulation of dust. She opened the heavyset, mahogany door and entered. She closed the door, barring the entrance of warm air eager to transfer heat inwards. The castle lay in mild darkness for all of the curtains were down. As if to shut out the heat entirely. Soft footsteps reverberated between the walls and the ceiling; such a sound emanated from the stone stairs covered by thick carpets. She conducted an experiment in heat transfer by closing her door.

The princess lay on her stomach and grabbed the two-thirds-read tome which sat on her pillow – Don Quixote, or He who Attacks Windmills. Her eyes moved swiftly horizontally as her knees flexed. She took a piece of hair and drew it over her hair. A periwinkle blue hairpin resided in the forest of brown.

The amount of light visible on the floor below the window diminished. The princess had rolled over onto her back, head resting on the coldest pillow. Her eyelids were sealed shut but she moved laterally in small increments. The tome which had consumed so much of her day lay on a bedside table. Her dreams were manifested in her raised arm and flexed fingers clasped around an imaginary hilt. Slash! Slash! Diagonal movements in the air. “A mighty foe stands in my way….a windmill,” she murmured. The movement subsided after a few moments as she quiesced to the night.

The sun shone through the once-more-revealed window as the princess stretched in place. She bent forwards and down, reaching towards her toes. Floating strands of hair were hidden behind her ear. Through the opened window the princess leapt, her dress fluttering in the wind. Her dissent was continued slowly, as if gravity had given up and was making a very weak last effort. At some point a shadow appeared on the ground, barely increasing in size. Sweat appeared on her exposed skin, attempting to cool her with the enthalpy of vaporization. The white dress, as it transpired, had become sticky. She tried to pull the sleeves away radially but gave up. Winds blew past her at a faster pace, serving little purpose but to annoy. “I was under the impression that today there would be normal gravity but I guess I forgot that I’m on the moon,” she muttered to herself. Her highness looked up, noticing a familiar curtain bundle up at the top. It was regal purple with golden designs…In other words she had only fallen a foot or so…and then upon making this discovery her hazel eyes widened and her velocity increased rapidly in the negative direction. Then her dress stopped rippling momentarily before the wind continued its deluge. A streak of orange tore through the sky furiously from a direction opposite that of the sun. She glanced over there and realized that the tips of her fingers were smoking. The princess’s heels had eased – her open eyes saw the ground touching her feet.