Sunday, August 01, 2010

little girl in a big chair

Once upon a time in a faraway land, there was a princess who loved decorating her castle. The time came when she had to fill her room with all the majestic fixtures she could ever want and have. She had all the lavish drapes, grand bed, antique study and the extravagant chandeliers money could buy. All was good until she looked around and realized something was missing! She did not have the proper reading chair. One that could be a little nook of her own. One where in she could get away from the world. So she took upon the task of looking for the perfect chair. She looked high and low and travelled great seas just to find this chair. Every single one she tried to sit on had their own characters.

There were the ones made of wood. Refreshing to sight, it reminded her of the times she would lay and play around in the woods. Some were rocking and some were stable. Some were hard and rough but some were smooth. She loved it, but something was not right. She knew it was not for her.

There were the ones made of steel. Cold to touch, it warmed her after sitting on it for awhile. Some were modern and minimalist but some were vintage and chic. She loved it, but something was not right. She knew it was not for her.

There were the ones made of stone. Elegant to taste, it satisfied her quench and passion for fashion. There were the intricately carved marbles and there were the slabs of stone made into benches. She loved it, but something was not right. She knew it was not for her.

Finally, after being miles away from home, she found the perfect chair. Pleasing to sight, touch and satisfying to taste, she wanted this and had to have this particular chair. As she ran her fingers back and forth through the luxurious fabric, she wanted it more. She was completely enamored by the looks of it. She had to try to sit on it and when she did, she was immediately swallowed whole by the chair. She didn't want to leave it or get up from it.

She absolutely loved it, but something was not right. She knew it was not for her. The owner would not sell for he did not need money. But he agreed to exchange it for strenuous physical and mental labour. So yes, it was not for her. Yet.

I don't know how this story ends or how it is supposed to end. Ask me in ten years?

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