Beanie Blue was born to be a Queen, but she sure didn’t feel like one.
It was hard for her to get up in the morning — when the world was awakening to bright sunlight, Beanie was caught in the darkness of her oversleeping un-dawning mind — and it made her so sad she did not want to get out of bed in the morning.
As the world spun to pass her by, Beanie began to wonder if there was something wrong with her just as her mother told her so.
“Why did she prefer the moon and the stars to the sun and clouds?” her mother would ask.
Without answering, Beanie wondered to herself why she loved the midnight sky and never the dawning light.
Oh, Beanie sighed, if she could only be the Overnight Queen when she grew up so she could play with the vampires and the dragons instead of dressing in gowns and parading all day long in the hot sun.
She yearned for the invisibility of nighttime when she could blend with the woodlands and sing with the nocturnal nightingales.
Unfortunately, for Beanie, her mother, and the world beyond, were Day People and they would not have Beanie sleeping past the crack of the rooster’s throat, and so Beanie had to stand around and look pretty all day long — all while napping in the dark of her mind — and feeling happy and content with all the things she couldn’t sense, but could always imagine.
Some days, even the nights were not enough, and Beanie had to ponder of a farther off end when her final night would finally arrive and she would ascend into the darkening skies and sleep forever in the eternal night.
When Beanie begged an early death during daylight hours, rain clouds would descend from the mountains and surround her to bring a cooling thunderstorm that cleansed the stone pathway into the graveyard — and Beanie would feel the wet, cold, stones beneath her bare feet and she knew she could make it through yet another noontime, just as long as the everlasting evening would visit her once-in-awhile and shoot the night into day by blocking out the punishing eye of her mother’s sun above her.
Sleeping past the crack of a rooster’s throat — great expression and great story!
Thanks, Mr. Gordon!
These are fun and challenging stories to write.
I need to create more of them!