Fairy Stories & Other Tales
In times of darkness and uncertainty, Amelia Brown writes to offer literary prose and poetry of beauty, wonder and light.
The Ever-Weeping Woman & The River Daughter
There was once a woman who was ever-weeping. By day she wept, and by night. She wept with joy, and with sorrow. She wept because the clouds were high, and because they lay low. She wept when the sun shone bright, and when the rain poured down. But most of all she wept because it seemed to her that there were no more surprises left in the world.
There were few places where she could do her weeping in peace, for those she came across found her ceaseless tears unbearable after a time. And so, when her feet could no longer carry her from place to place and the time had come for her to find a home, she sat beside a river under the cover of willow branches and found herself in perfect company for her tears.
Thus she sat and cried her tears until the river daughter, astonished by the sudden swell in her river, tread from within the swift current and surfaced to see the face of the weeping one.
Then the river daughter asked, 'Sister, why do you cry?'
'I cry because of the beauty and the sorrow of the world. I cry because of the changes all around me. But most of all I cry because none of it is unexpected; it seems that there are no more surprises left in all the world.'
The river daughter thought on this, sinking below the depths of water, in contemplation on the nature of the weeping woman's tears.
It came to her all of a sudden—as all the best ideas are wont to do—and without a second thought she left her river and came and placed her arms around the shoulders of the ever-weeping woman. The woman's eyes flew wide at the unexpected kindly impulse, for no one, in all her days had ever performed so caring a deed. In her surprise, she felt herself freeze in the wonder of it.
To this day she sits, wide-eyed and frozen—so let that be the lesson here: that we never think the world has yielded up all her surprises.
Those Who Speak Last...
When the trees spoke, they roared. Whispers of their slow demise had come hinted upon the wind for an age or more. It is the nature of trees to listen; and so, they waited. But when their roots touched deep and found need to go ever deeper, and when their leaves stretched up and found their height stunted, a menacing quiet fell among them. It was hope that made them wait. And hope that made them roar. And when they roared, well… so quiet had they always been that the world took note and listened.
The World's First Laugh
Long ago when the world was new, a bird lit upon a branch and whistled. It was a noise that shattered stillness. One by one the creatures of the earth called back until the cacophony of sound rose in such a glorious timbre that the earth began to shake. The hills shuddered, the mountains trembled, the valleys swayed. And when it seemed as though the ground would crack in two, the movement subsided until it was no more than a gentle rumble. The creatures looked about them, their eyes darting and deep with panicked fear. But the bird knew better. She knew it was the world's first laugh.
The light shown on Anya's fingers. It curled around her palm and danced. This, she thought, was the sheer pleasure of having magic. But in the midst of her play, a shadow grew. It was not unexpected; it was the cost of doing magic, for it always begot shadows. But it never ceased to offer discomfort. If she could find a way to practice her craft and leave behind the adjacent darkness, she would. Anya was not fond of the dark, or shadows, or of the sense of unease that grew whenever she let the flickering brightness dance. But, too, there was a feeling of wholeness in her work. How could that be, such fulfillment when darkness lay about her? A constant wonder—the weight of it only born by extinguishing the light for a time until she could bear it again. Today was such a time. Anya took the light, and threw it at the darkness. The next breath, and it was gone. Elimination brought palpable relief, while at the same time she
Amelia Brown
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