I commented in my previous post that releasing unedited, drafty-first-draft pieces of writing into the world (as the Merry Sisters did on their shared writing blog) is a brave thing. Not something I'd ever dare ... Then I remembered that I did.
It was in response to one of the prompts the Sisters posted, inviting their blog readers to compose their own piece, inspired by this classic image:
I've just dug it out and re-read it, and it made me laugh, so I thought I'd share, since I don't imagine any of you have seen it before. Here's the original post
And here's a copy of the story in case you can't be bothered to flick back to the original:The Princess and the Pea
Ouch, damnit. There’s nothing I hate more than breaking in a new mattress, and I’ve got twenty of the bastards to deal with here. Now where the hell did I put my chocolates? Ah, there they are. Just as well they didn’t fall off – it’s quite a drop from up here, and they did insist on taking away the ladder. Afraid I’d hurt myself, bless them. You know, normally I’d be reading a chapter or two before settling down for the night, if it wasn’t for that drop. Trouble is, the cord from the bedside lamp won’t stretch far enough and, well, have you ever seen a bedside table with twenty-foot long legs?
Seems crazy, doesn’t it? I mean, why deny myself one of my few night-time pleasures (yes, and we’re not going to discuss that here, okay?) The trouble is, the stupid, pea-brain prince did demand that I undergo this ridiculous test, just to be sure I’m the genuine article. To be honest, I blame his mother. I mean, you should see the sourpuss face on her, and the make-up. Jeez. Talk about plastering over the cracks. I reckon the local DIY store must do alright by her. And really, I’m not all that sure I want her for a mother-in-law anyway. Nice of her to provide the chocolates, I will say that for her, although I bet she’s hoping they’ll bring me out in spots.
Ow. I can’t tell you how uncomfortable this is. Honestly, it’s like having whacking great boulders planted under you. I don’t know how I’m going to get a wink of sleep. Even after that delightful good-night kiss I wheedled out of the prince.
‘Just in case I do turn out to be the right one,’ I told him, stretching extravagantly so he’d get a good look at the low-cut neckline of my nightie. ‘After all, we need there to be some chemistry too, don’t we?’
He really didn’t take too much persuading, which is why I think it’s his mother who’s the one behind this stupid plan to test each prospective girlfriend. Princey was even sly enough to send her away with the guard for another blanket because I might get cold. No points for guessing where his gaze was fixed to give him that idea.
Anyway, it was sweet of him because it meant we had the most delicious moment or two alone together.
Sad to say there was no chemistry at all.
Still, it gave me time to do the necessary.
I just wish I’d managed to pack him between the layers of mattresses a bit better, but I didn’t have long, and I had to wipe up the blood before his mother came back as well.
‘Gone away to sulk, probably,’ I told her when she wondered what had happened to her darling boy.
Foolish boy, more like. Doesn’t he know that all girls are real princesses?