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lost fairytales
inner city stories
by louise arnold

My baby is out there somewhere.

I can feel it, like a compass point tugging inside me, although the direction spins and spins until I’m giddy and near pulled apart. Except, she wouldn’t be baby now. Now she’d be full of words, and ambitions, and simply drawn dreams. Now she’d be the age of princesses and pink, of strawberries and plaited hair. Now she’d be the age of fairytales.

And I wonder... Am I the mother with golden hair and soft laughter, in a land far, far away from here; a memory, a song, a once-upon-a-time and maybe one day a happily-ever-after? Or am I the evil bitch, heart of black, who threw her child away? Late at night tumbling thoughts cast myself in either role, and I walk the dreams I imagine she has.

In the day, in crowds, the compass tugs strongly, and I search every face for that magic mirror of me. Looking to see my own eyes staring back. They’d said that, that day, as they whisked her away.

“She has your eyes.”

I look for them in every child I see, but no child’s eyes yet have belonged to me.

If only I could re-write the beginning, that once upon a time, to undo what’s done and make it right. Read the words backwards, and break the spell. Bring her back.

But all I can do now is wait for my ending. Our ending. Yours. That sunset, that perfect day that reunites, that happily ever after, or broken mirrors, cold words, and memories locked in towers.

At least I know, the choice I made, no matter how it clings to me, has carved the first four words down on the page, and nothing now can change them.

So I was young, not far from pink and princesses and fairytales, but no matter what that slip of paper may say, or in your dreams what role I play, the golden haired mother or the heart of black, I made my choice and I set those first four words for you. The rest of the ending is yours to write.

And So She Lived…


A work in progress.

more about louise arnold


cathy jones (wife of dave)
by louise arnold
topic: writing
published: 7.21.10

elephants graveyard
by louise arnold
topic: writing
published: 8.1.03


tracey kelley
3.5.04 @ 11:46a


This needs to go off to other places, hon.

This reminds me of a recent news story about a mother who saw her 6-year-old daughter at a birthday party. She -thought-her daughter had died in a fire as an infant, but never really believed it. The baby was actually abducted by a friend.

Momma always knows.

louise arnold
3.5.04 @ 12:17p

Needs to go off to other places?


jael mchenry
3.5.04 @ 2:43p

Should be shopped around to magazines and journals, somebody who might pay you for it, cuz it's awesome.

And I agree 100%.

tracey kelley
3.5.04 @ 3:56p

Yep, that's what I meant.

louise arnold
3.5.04 @ 7:10p

Oh, I wasn't sure if you meant plot wise :) I wouldn't even know where to begin to send it.

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