Fairy Tale - Part 3b

The blizzard had past and with it the wind. In the sunshine she surveyed the rubble. She thought she should smile But snow made her shiver And the dream felt like something she couldn’t not feel And the mailman and mama and girls in white dresses were too far away For her face to cause them discomfort disguised as disapproval. So she didn’t smile And instead became aware That the snow lingering on her nose and eyelashes Was melting in streams down her cheeks. If only, if only The voice still it beckoned About to rise to continue her quest She heard a distant melody approaching Reedy, alto and minor Played by a stranger in a woolen poncho and leather boots Flanked by a hound in a jewel studded collar. As he neared, he slid the music maker into its holder on his belt, Commanded the hound be still, And proceeded to silently clean up the rubble As she sat watching with streams on her cheeks. She heard the entreating ‘if only’ still calling But after some moments of watching him work In graceful, efficiency, completely soundless She no longer heeded the call And though it continued After a while She didn’t hear it at all. He finished his work And drew from his pocket a perfectly soft bandana. With a tear in his eye And the gentlest of smiles Wiped the snow from her lashes. And gave her a rose. ‘Here, love’ Looking down at the petals she saw a drop And in it her perfect reflection. With tears still streaming she felt like smiling. ‘Thank you, love’ she said In her own voice The voice of her dream.