Sleeping Princess

“There was a king who ruled over this land. And he had two daughters, or so the story goes. One day, the youngest one fell deathly ill. It was either poison or the plague, I can never remember it very well, but that is not important. The doctors tried to save her, but she could not be cured.”

“So the eldest sister made a deal with the fairies for her sibling’s life. I think I’ve heard this one before.”

“She did. And a faerie prince agreed, asking only for a kiss in return.”

“Why a kiss?”

“Because a princess’ kiss is powerful currency among the fae. It can lift curses or be their catalyst, it can mend or break a heart, it can heal their own diseases. With a princess’ kiss, this prince could easily conquer entire nations in the fae world.”

“I’m assuming she gave it to him.”

“There was caveat. The kiss of a fae prince would make her fall into a deep sleep. So his deal was: She would kiss him, and then he would return the kiss in two years time, effectively waking her up. She still agreed. Her sister was saved and the sleeping princess was taken to the highest tower of the palace, that could only be accessed by her family or the fae prince destined to wake her. As you do.”

“Of course.”

“The next year, the war broke out.”

“The one between the fae and the humans? That one lasted more than 2 years.”

“And some would say it never ended, for anyone. But what you’re thinking is right: the prince never came back after those 2 years. He would have fulfilled his part of the contract, but he was probably killed in the war. Her family either died in the war or fled. The thing is, everyone is gone now. And she’s been there the whole time.”

“For how long exactly?”

“She has been sleeping for two thousand years.”

“That’s a nice story, but what does that have to do with us?”

The man put out his cigarette and swung his rifle over his shoulder, looking at the tower in the distance, the sole structure surviving over the ruined landscape, pitch black against the setting sun.

“Well, child, your mother was, as far as I know, the last descendant of fae royalty and one of the last of her kind. And you’re half-and-half. Hopefully that would be enough.”

They lifted their motorbike helmet and looked at their father, bewildered.

“You want me to climb the tower and wake the princess? Why?”

“Well, I feel like doing a good deed. Besides, I promised your mother I would. It was a family honor thing for her, I think.”

He lowered his own visor and started the engine.

“And if it’s just a legend and she’s not there, hopefully there will be some valuables left to take.”

And for one more night, as the sun set behind the hills, the tower’s windows lighted up. And on the branches climbing up the wall, white flowers bloomed under the moonlight.

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Initial questionnaire

Thank you for applying for a position at our company! We appreciate you showing interest in the work we do and wanting to be part of our prestigious team.

This questionnaire, provided by your interviewer, will help us know more about you. It should not take you more than fifteen minutes. Your interviewer will go through some of the answers with you. Thank you for your time!

List what you think are your three greatest strengths:

How did you hear about us? ☐ A friend ☐ Another employee ☐ Employment website ☐ The newspaper ☐ Found yourself here

I am available to work (check all applicable): ☐ Monday to Friday ☐ Weekends ☐ Nights ☐ Full time ☐ Part time  ☐ 24/7 shifts ☐ Forever

How did you get here? ☐ Public transport ☐ My own car ☐ Walking ☐ I do not know

You receive a phone call; how do you answer? (check only one answer) ☐ Good morning, my name is [legal name], how may I help you? ☐ Hi, what’s the problem? ☐ Good morning, my name is [real name], how may I help you? ☐ I do not answer

What do you hear on the other side of the call? (check only one answer) ☐ A customer ☐ An IT technician ☐ Nothing ☐ Birds singing ☐ My own voice

A client has a problem you do not know how to solve, what do you do? ☐ I ask a coworker ☐ I ask my coordinator ☐ I cannot ask anyone, the office is empty ☐ I ask myself on the other side of the mirror ☐ I know how to solve it

What door did you use to enter? ☐ The main door ☐ The red door ☐ The door behind the building ☐ The walled door

What answer did you give to the doorman’s question? _______________ Did you lie? ☐ Yes ☐ No

Did you meet anyone on your way to this office? ☐ Yes ☐ No What did they look like? _____________________

 Tell us what you know about us:

 Tell us what you think we know about you:

 What do you wish to gain from working at our company?

What are you willing to give in exchange?

Do you know your interviewer’s name? _____________

Please hand this questionnaire now to your interviewer and give them time to go through the answers. Thank you for your cooperation. We wish you luck in your interview!

[if you like my writing consider buying me a coffee? your girl works night shifts ;u;] [Feel free to keep the suspension of disbelief alive and fill this or use it as a writing prompt as long as you credit me and link back to the original!]

Charming coffee places you should definitely check out!~

I love going out for tea or coffee; sometimes with my friends, sometimes by myself to savor the peace and qiet. Lately I’ve discovered some interesting coffee shops, and I thought I would share my favorite ones with you. 

Oh, and don’t worry, I’ve noticed you can find at least one or two of these in every town, so I want to believe this is mostly relevant for everyone.  

The coffee shop with the flower decals on the big window:

The fancy bakery with the white columns:

The two-story Starbucks on the main street:

The small café with the green door:

The roadside diner on the edge of town:

Overall, I’ve had a great experience in all the establishments. If you decide to go, remember to always pay for your drinks and tip your barista. And if you take pictures of your food to post them on social media, remember to tag the food places so other people can know about them!

[if you like my writing consider buying me a coffee? your girl works night shifts ;u;]

[This is 100% fictional nonfiction, that is, it’s not real. Please enjoy the story, let it inspire you, but be nice to your real-world baristas and tip them ouo]

How to deal with street cats

(NOTE: do not follow cats with mismatched eyes. You can pet them, but the moment they run away you should immediately turn your back to them and walk in the opposite direction.)

Black cats:

Orange cats:

White cats:

Calico cats:

Remember to always take some food with you, something made of iron, and comfortable shoes.

And remember to always be nice to the cats!

[russian translation by @rachell-redacted]

[if you like my writing consider buying me a coffee? your girl works night shifts ;u;]  @senshi76 gave me the suggestion for this one!

I. THE MONSTER

There is a monster in the woods.

They say it eats human flesh.

They say it can take human form.

And they say it will make you turn against your loved ones and feed them to it.

 II. THE CROWN

Your father, the king, is abdicating. You, his only daughter, with a twin brother. Tradition states the crown belongs to him, not you.

You have always challenged tradition.

“Bring me the head of the monster. Lay it at my feet during the crowning ceremony. And you shall be queen.” That is your father’s sentence. That is your promise.

The light of dawn turns the golden spires pink the morning you ride into the forest, your bow and arrows on your back and your sword by your side.

  III. THE FOREST

The golden city is in a constant war with the forest. The streets and the buildings advance at its edge, and the vines grow over the buildings until they are uninhabitable and the ever-present white roses bloom from their ruins.

The roses grow wild. On the ground, over trees, from the trees. The smell is not unpleasant, but strong enough to make your head light. It sends a clear message: you are not welcome here.

 IV. THE ARROW

Days later, you find her bathing in a pond, in a clearing where the smell of the flowers is softer. A pair of deer antlers sprout from her head and there are white roses and sweet marjoram flowers in her hair. She has not seen you.

Don’t think twice. Prepare your bow.

And shoot.

Your arrow misses by an inch and she turns, startled. At the sight of her golden eyes, your horse bucks and you fall to the ground. You hit your head. The last you hear is the sound of water.

 V. THE WOMAN

The first thing you see when you open your eyes is her face. She is certainly the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. Yet you come to your senses and get away from her, sword in hand.  

You call her a monster. She calls you a monster in return.

“You invade my forest. You attack my sisters. And now you call us monsters? You used to call us faeries until you decided you did not care for our home.”

There is more like her.

“You eat human flesh.”

“We eat butterflies.”

“You are taking human form to confuse me.”

“This is my real form. It is not human.”

You step closer, hoping she doesn’t notice your faltering grip on your sword. She turns and walks calmly back into the forest. You hear her voice even after she has left.

I will not be harmed here. You, however, will not make it out without help. You will call for me.

 VI. THE LOVER

Days pass. You are out of food. You have not seen a single animal. You keep walking, the forest a tunnel of trees and moss. No matter the turns or the steps, you always end up stepping into clearing and into the pond. But you will die before falling deeper into the monster’s trap.

You smell sweet marjoram as you lie weak and hungry on the edge of the pond. She kneels next to you and brings you fruit, honey and butterflies. You did not call for her, but she came.

She sings you to sleep and tells you of her sisters. She tells you of the forest and how to traverse it. She promises to guide you back home. She takes your hand and leads you through the labyrinth that is her home. She sings and, for the first time, you see birds.

When the night comes, you kiss her. And her lips taste of fruit, honey and butterflies.

 VII. THE MONSTERS

They say there is a monster in the woods. She is a faerie.

They say she eats human flesh. She eats butterflies.

They say she can take human form. She is more beautiful than any human woman.

The golden doors open to the crowning ceremony. The music and the dances stop and all eyes are on you as you walk up to your father, head high.

“Well?” he says, a smug smile on his face.

“I bring the head of the monster that has terrorized the kingdom.”

“And where is it?”

You unsheathe your sword, giving him or the guards no time to react. And you slice his head off.

And you lay it at his feet.

 VIII. THE QUEEN

They say there is a monster in the woods.

The throne room is silent as a tomb. Terror settles in the eyes of the guests, of the guards. When you turn, they do not dare meet your gaze.  The door opens. She is here, and her sisters with her.

“I introduce you to your monster,” you say, extending you hand. “Under my rule, you are welcome in this kingdom.”

At the cue, they move inside. Everyone stares at them in awe. All of them sport the antlers and the crowns of rose and marjoram.

She walks up to you and circles you with her arms.  

“Thank you,” she says.

“For saving your home?”

“For giving the kingdom back to its rightful queen.”

They say it eats human flesh.

The screams deafen you. Her sisters lunge at the guests, at their throats, at their faces. You step back but she is still embracing you.

Her hand digs into your chest and holds your heart, almost tenderly.

They say she can take human form.

Nails too long, teeth too sharp. Maybe it was a disguise, maybe you are noticing too late. As your blood mixes with your father’s blood, she holds your head gently and takes your crown.

There is a monster in the woods.

And she is a queen.

[if you like my writing consider buying me a coffee? your girl works night shifts ;u;]

Fairytale Noir

I knew the dame was fey when she walked in.

Maybe for the way she walked, not one of the floorboards creaking. Or the way she smelled like rain and flowers (there’s not a garden or a park in miles). Or how I could tell her eyes were green even though the light from the sunset coming through the window was dim and low.

She didn’t sit on my metal chair. She sat on the wooden table instead.

She offered a cigarette. I refused.

“A mint, instead?” She offered.

“I tend to charge for my work, not do it as a favor.” I replied.

She reached for her purse but I stopped her.

“Bank transfer.” I scribbled on a paper. “To this number. If you don’t have a bank account, open one. It’s not hard.”

Tucking the paper in her purse, she smiled.

“My, my. Nervous, aren’t we?”

“Cautious. Now tell me what’s your business here.”

She played with her hair, gold and bushy, covering the sides of her face, and her ears.

“A man has gone missing, I want you to find him. That’s what you do, right?”

“I’m guessing ‘missing’ here, means ‘escaped’.”

“Why do you care? He was my favorite flute player and now he’s gone. He also stole from me if that helps your morality.”

She handed me a picture. The man in question had dark hair and bandaged eyes.

“I still own his eyes and his heart. Shouldn’t be too difficult to find a man without eyes carrying a glowing flower with him.”

I lighted a cigarette (of my own) and stood, walking around the room.

“Is that what he stole from you?”

“I promised I would give it to him so he could heal his sick sister if he played for me for 30 days and 30 nights without rest. He fled on day 29.”

“You’re not making much of an effort to convince me to help you.”

“The way the flower will save her is by turning her into one of us. The girl needs to come to our land and eat from ourr food or she will starve to death. Do you want that in your conscience?”

Her feet didn’t make a sound as she gracefully jumped fromt he table, straightening her dress.

“Besides, a life without a heart is a wretched one. They can come back to my estate, he can have his eyes back, and they will both live. Also, you will get paid. More than just money if you wish. So?”

I stopped pacing and exhaled smoke.

“How should I contact you?” I finally asked.

She handed me a business card. I had to control myself not to laugh at that.

“A normal phone will suffice. I will await your call.”

The door closed softly behind her and she just left the scent of moss and flowers behind her.

Well, and the ferns on the entrace were dead just this morning.

[if you like my writing consider buying me a coffee? your girl works night shifts ;u;]

(this is a repost from my main into my writing blog, so you might have seen it twice, sorry for that) 

She knows the stories

When the widow visits the Dark Sorceress some part of her imagines a dark cave, a crooked tower. Inside, an old woman, closer to a corpse than a human, with teeth like needles and fingers like hooks. She smiles at her ingenuity as she steps in the run-down apartment and finds her casually sitting on a couch, wearing her estranged sister’s face. The widow isn’t sure if she’s trying to instill fear, guilt or compassion (trying to protect herself?) in her.

She sits on a rickety chair in front of her.

“I’ve been looking for you for years-”

“Save me the details, I don’t advertise myself, everyone looks for me for years. What is that you wish?”

The last time she had been asked that she made the biggest mistake of her life.

I want my life to be like a fairytale.

Forgetting that the happy ending is just the last two sentences of the fairytale.

“It’s about my wife…”

But among all the dangers, she had learned how to solve riddles. She had studied law. She knew how to tangle and untangle the words, how to use the weapons they tried to use against her.

“She is dead, isn’t she?” the Sorceress asks.

But she forgot the people around her weren’t as used to these tricks as her.

“Yes.”

A poisoned apple, the oldest trick in the world. No one ever showed Snow White’s blue face or the blood coming out of her nose, too bright against her white skin.

“And you want her back. Just as everyone else.” The Dark Sorceress just sips her tea, her feet on the couch.

“Can you do it?” the widow asks.

She shrugs. It’s so strange to see her sister slouching like that, the ever-so-regal woman whose logic and temperance saved her from most of the dangers of her childhood. Who tried to keep her from being as foolish as she was being right now.

“Sure, but there’s a catch.”

“Of course. I’ve heard the doomsday narrative before, so get to the point, please.”

The Sorceress huffs and sits upright, elbows on her knees and resting her head on her palms. The blond curls obscure her face.

“I usually use the warning to think about something original.” She stares at her for a few seconds. “I think I have it.”

The lights in the room dim. Even the glow from the muted television. Even the sunlight through the blinds.

“Go back to the place where she died. I guess that would be your childhood house?” At this point she doesn’t even wonder how she knows this. “She will be there, waiting for you.”

“But?”

“But you will die the moment you see her eyes. And you won’t be able to talk to her. What were, you expecting, a happy ending?”

The Dark Sorceress extends her hand towards her.

The widow thinks for a moment, then shakes her hand.

There are no fireworks or supernatural ripple in the air, but she knows these things are like this. They just happen.

The widow stands and shows her the screen of her phone, where the recording application has been running.

“You better be telling the truth, for your own sake.”

She turns and leaves the place.

And drives back to the home she hasn’t seen in years.

The white country house meets her in silence, surrounded by mist. Of course her sister left after she did, who would stand living in this haunted place alone? Or maybe it looks haunted because she is not here.

She steps through the dust-covered corridors. Up the white wooden staircase to the bedrooms. She can hear steps, and smiles.

In another story she runs to meet her love and dies at her feet, happy to see her face one last time.

In another story Orpheus turns.

In another story the Little Mermaid turns to foam.

But she knows the stories.

She looks to the ground and meets her wife’s arms around her and holding her close. She does regret not being able to see her face, her eyes after all these years, but she doesn’t let go of her hand.

When she asks, she hands her the recording and wraps her scarf over her eyes while she listens.

The fairy who made her first wish come true must be cringing at the anticlimactic ending.

But that’s the problem, an anticlimactic ending becomes the start of the fairytale. And as she takes her wife’s hand between hers she knows there’s worse things to come.

Once upon a time there were two lovers who were cursed and could not look at each other or talk to each other…

Yes, it sounds so good. Well played.

[if you like my writing consider buying me a coffee? your girl works night shifts ;u;]