There lives yonder a lass as plain as plain goes. Pen in her hand and time by her sole. Silly daydreams spring airy-fairy. Naive by nature, she hoards secrets sworn by witches of old.
Blue as the sky as blue as freedom soars, down amidst the ocean where waves crash and howl. There our Lassie swims swimmingly bold. Scales iridescent, a water nymph she transforms. The ocean is her astral kingdom, the waves wave her home.
Far and wide she ventures and roams. From giggling bubbles and sun-filled foam, to the depths of Abyss where slitted eyes glow. No plans nor maps nor scores to goal — Lassie knows she never gets lost if she never has a map to follow!
In the ocean there live a many fellows. Some friendly some wise some evil and some with crossbows. By chance or by fate she comes across one forbidden fort. Armed dolphin guards snarl at her, suspicious. Arms holding high and apologies frantic, Lassie flees swift. Lucky the guards chase after her not.
Panicky frenzy, wild but free. She bolts and she sprints and her heart races adrenaline. Focus rendered foggy, her astral form glitchy. Her tail no longer visible, blurs first into a stingray, then a mini airplane floating just above the sea.
Up, up and upper Lassie floats — until she's no longer floating, that's when her wings grow. Wide and strong and pearly her angelic feathers glow, much like the sun their aura shines gold. Lassie's lust for flight terrible. She roams the skies, she kisses the clouds, and from up across the blue, Paralda casts her a smile ever so fatherly.
But up and up and upper she soars; unending, guided by a mysterious force. Zipping past shimmering heights of towering entities, they regard her with discreet interest. She wants to slow down to take a closer look at them but every second propels her even higher. Where will she end up? Can dear Reader tell?
You can't tell, you won't know, for even dear Lassie can't have known. Right up front and down on floor there sits a happy winged infant. Cheerful and content but indifferent is Cupid, the God of Desire, the Blesser of Love. And she's all alone with him.
One would call her lucky, another would say rash. But you don't get to see Cupid every day, so you might as well-
And seize the chance Lassie does, for she cares not what we think anyway. Gathering her power she projects energy to form a little trinket — red and lovely; heart-shaped and dainty.
Full of the innocence of new love she charges it with; unbridled passion and hankering want she fills to the brim. It smells of the blush of first kisses, but reeks of the aching need for wanton release. Satisfied, she hands the gift to Cupid. He'll be happy to receive it, maybe hold it in his hands, maybe make it an arm pillow, or even a souvenir from-
Promptly Lassie's gift explodes in many tiny pieces. A shattered heart — she gapes at the sight; she feels her own heart broken. What happens next shakes her to her core. Cupid proceeds to gulp down the broken shards. In a few goes he finishes his "meal" and returns to his chirpy state.
As if nothing happened.
Quite a while does it take for Lassie to recover from shock. The heartbreaker god seems to enjoy her gift though. Being the ever reckless opportunist she utters the one wish she so yearns for:
“Cupid, next time aim your arrows at both me and my crush, okay? Not just me because I'm tired of chasing people who don't want me.”
His serene eyes dart up to hers in a single flash. Lassie's heart skips a beat. Like fireworks her head explodes; loud and messy and dreadful but not bloody. Hearts of various patterns and colours spring from her blown head. Sizzling smell of the sweetest sweets enraptures her senses.
Be it her wish granted or not, this is sure to be one unforgettable venture.
Not bad for a new look, too.
