He awoke that morning to a Dark Place. So Dark that any light hurt. So he decided to stay inside as much as he could. Even Prince Charming had difficult days, and these were some of the worst. His home was a familiar trap to him. The bed was his only place of refuge, but even that was a trap. He couldn't move inside his own body, and even if he did get up, he knew the Dragon would be waiting for him. So he pulled the covers up over his head as much as he could. But even children know this is not a way to hide from monsters.
He had to leave the apartment sometimes. Briefly, for food. Or to move his Chariot twice a week for Alternate-Side Street Cleaning. The Enchanted Island had all sorts of magic, but not even the streets could keep themselves clean. You had to obey certain rules or you'd get a ticket. So, he got his car out of the way twice a week, and sometimes that was the only time he left his cave.
And on very lucky days, he heard singing.
It was a Lovely Sound.
One couldn’t tell exactly where it came from, the echo bounced around so that, even though it seemed crystal clear, it seemed to bounce all around. Until you weren’t even sure if it was or was NOT coming from inside your own body.
There were notes as sweet as berries. Words like “Love” came out sounding as if the singer were smiling. A beautiful smile. You could picture a locked-away princess, with only her echo to keep her company. Fragments of song were heard in the stairwell, in the hallway. He heard her songs coming out of windows. The sound was Happiness itself.
One day, when it hurt too much to move, he found himself drawn to his cave door, opening onto the hallway. She was singing, a beautiful, endless song. Clearly this time, coming from the other end of the hallway. Never such a beautiful song before. The kind that hurts your heart when it comes to an end. Enchanted by this sound; his curiosity overcame him.
All he wanted to do was to touch The Happy Sound. He wanted to hold it in his hand, like a bird. Or to eat it, like an ice cream. He wanted it to hold him like a hug, or reassure him like a summer breeze.
He opened the door and began to walk down the hallway, to the unknown side, where light always seemed to be spilling in from outside, even at night. His cave apartment was dark and damp, and every time he entered the building, he could feel himself turning away from the sun. But this time, he walked towards the light. Most of the apartment doors looked normal, quotidian & everyday-looking, even. Much like his own. When he got to the last one in the hallway, it was cracked open just a little bit, as if the sunlight itself had fingers and eyes and was wanting to peek out.
He was afraid and his heart was pounding. The golden notes seemed to be coming from inside, but if he pushed the door open, would they stop?
The song seemed to be coming to an end. And it stopped on its own. Somehow, it had always started up again, as if it were a sound with a million verses. Now his hand moved to open the door, if only to start the music up again, like a record player whose needle needs to touch down on the outside edge again.
The door moved a few inches open. There was a Girl, scrunched down, hugging her knees. On the floor of a long hallway in an apartment, much like his own, yet completely different. If he hadn't seen her, he wouldn't have believed that she was the source. The way she looked didn't match the sound at all.
The Girl had long hair and big eyes. In some lights and at some angles, certain times of the day, she could be considered beautiful. But not here and not now. Here she looked like a cleaning lady, or a babysitter. She seemed too tiny. So weak. As if all her breath were in the song, and without the sound, she was empty.
Her eyes were focused away from him and looked even larger than they would normally appear, because they were shimmering with tears. And to his surprise, she began singing again, without even noticing him.
He slowly backed away and went back to his own cave.
He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to ask her why she was crying, but the whole idea only made him sadder. And he was afraid to get more sad than he was already. It was a swamp full of quicksand for him.
He was afraid to find out that this beautiful pure thing, this lovely song, had come from a place of sadness. A song as beautiful as that should only make people happy. Especially someone who can sing it so well. He wanted only to know that the song made her happier, not sadder.
He wanted a song for himself. That would only make people happy when they heard it. He wanted to make a song that would make him happy. But he knew his destiny was to fight his dragon and not make things like a tinkerer.
“Besides”, he thought, “there is no song in this world which could make me happy”.
“That’s what you think,” she thought, as the sound of his door closing echoed down the hall.
He had to leave the apartment sometimes. Briefly, for food. Or to move his Chariot twice a week for Alternate-Side Street Cleaning. The Enchanted Island had all sorts of magic, but not even the streets could keep themselves clean. You had to obey certain rules or you'd get a ticket. So, he got his car out of the way twice a week, and sometimes that was the only time he left his cave.
And on very lucky days, he heard singing.
It was a Lovely Sound.
One couldn’t tell exactly where it came from, the echo bounced around so that, even though it seemed crystal clear, it seemed to bounce all around. Until you weren’t even sure if it was or was NOT coming from inside your own body.
There were notes as sweet as berries. Words like “Love” came out sounding as if the singer were smiling. A beautiful smile. You could picture a locked-away princess, with only her echo to keep her company. Fragments of song were heard in the stairwell, in the hallway. He heard her songs coming out of windows. The sound was Happiness itself.
One day, when it hurt too much to move, he found himself drawn to his cave door, opening onto the hallway. She was singing, a beautiful, endless song. Clearly this time, coming from the other end of the hallway. Never such a beautiful song before. The kind that hurts your heart when it comes to an end. Enchanted by this sound; his curiosity overcame him.
All he wanted to do was to touch The Happy Sound. He wanted to hold it in his hand, like a bird. Or to eat it, like an ice cream. He wanted it to hold him like a hug, or reassure him like a summer breeze.
He opened the door and began to walk down the hallway, to the unknown side, where light always seemed to be spilling in from outside, even at night. His cave apartment was dark and damp, and every time he entered the building, he could feel himself turning away from the sun. But this time, he walked towards the light. Most of the apartment doors looked normal, quotidian & everyday-looking, even. Much like his own. When he got to the last one in the hallway, it was cracked open just a little bit, as if the sunlight itself had fingers and eyes and was wanting to peek out.
He was afraid and his heart was pounding. The golden notes seemed to be coming from inside, but if he pushed the door open, would they stop?
The song seemed to be coming to an end. And it stopped on its own. Somehow, it had always started up again, as if it were a sound with a million verses. Now his hand moved to open the door, if only to start the music up again, like a record player whose needle needs to touch down on the outside edge again.
The door moved a few inches open. There was a Girl, scrunched down, hugging her knees. On the floor of a long hallway in an apartment, much like his own, yet completely different. If he hadn't seen her, he wouldn't have believed that she was the source. The way she looked didn't match the sound at all.
The Girl had long hair and big eyes. In some lights and at some angles, certain times of the day, she could be considered beautiful. But not here and not now. Here she looked like a cleaning lady, or a babysitter. She seemed too tiny. So weak. As if all her breath were in the song, and without the sound, she was empty.
Her eyes were focused away from him and looked even larger than they would normally appear, because they were shimmering with tears. And to his surprise, she began singing again, without even noticing him.
He slowly backed away and went back to his own cave.
He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to ask her why she was crying, but the whole idea only made him sadder. And he was afraid to get more sad than he was already. It was a swamp full of quicksand for him.
He was afraid to find out that this beautiful pure thing, this lovely song, had come from a place of sadness. A song as beautiful as that should only make people happy. Especially someone who can sing it so well. He wanted only to know that the song made her happier, not sadder.
He wanted a song for himself. That would only make people happy when they heard it. He wanted to make a song that would make him happy. But he knew his destiny was to fight his dragon and not make things like a tinkerer.
“Besides”, he thought, “there is no song in this world which could make me happy”.
“That’s what you think,” she thought, as the sound of his door closing echoed down the hall.
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