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| Cruithneacht's Guide to Happiness |
| Posted on 24/11/03 at 06:21 by cruithneacht |
There once was a time when I was content with faeries. Jais, wed have mad craic back the fields of a summer night. Blowin up rabbits and chasin cows into lakes. Those faeries sure knew how to have a good time. But as age hit me, I concluded that the world wasnt made up of faeries running wild. And thus began my curiosity with the world and all of its creatures.
So one cold wintry morn, I jumped into Marty Hennigans transport box, and started my journey on the road of discovery. I took to the skies, and didnt stop until the Southern Cross was shining up above me.
My first goal was to find a mermaid, and ask her all about the sea. But as you can imagine, mermaids are hard to track down. I did meet a couple of elves, though, and they occupied my time for a while. They were with me when I made the greatest discovery of all.
It was a balmy summer evening, and we were happily skipping homeward, along this barren desert track, when we stumbled upon a fallen angel. Her wings were tattered and broken, but she was certainly the most enchanting of all creatures up until this point. I took her by the hand, and raised her up to her full height. The magnificent sight of her shimmering in the moonlight, put great fear into the elves, and they all flittered away into the darkness. She was clearly a very lonesome entity, and she carried a great sadness on her shoulders. I led her to my home and kept her warm in my bed. And at sunrise, I made scrambled eggs on toast. This was her first experience of such a bounty. And also the beginning of her fascination with a mere mortal.
Now its not a simple task repairing an angels wings, but by God, I did it. Using every bit of strength and love I could muster up. I took that angel in my arms and I didnt let her go until every one of those silvery white feathers was aching for the skies.
And here became our quandary. A mortal cannot hold an angel forever. At night, I would wake to find her at the window, peering up into the sky with a longing. Then she would rush over and squeeze me until every bone in my body was ready to break like biscuits. I had to find something to keep her grounded and happy. There was only one place I could take her to. The Land of the Faeries.
So without need of passports or boarding cards, she flew me home. This was still a world apart from what she was used to, but the mortals were so charming, even if the faeries were a bit wild. It was all quite intriguing for her. She loved shopping in the Trafford Centre and pop idol auditions. And on weekends we would drive into the countryside, to marvel at the beauty of it all. I built a home for us, out of cotton wool and feathers. I was truly the happiest being living on the planet at that time. But still, I would find her standing by the window at night, gazing up at the stars, with her teary face, illuminated by the light of the moon. It was my greatest ever challenge, keeping her on earth. And I did everything in my power to keep it that way.
Then one day, exactly four mortal years since Id rescued her broken body, in that far away desert. I returned home to find the window open, and my angel had gone, without even leaving a dear John-John. Just a set of Ikea curtains flapping in the breeze.
I ran out into the street and fell to my knees, letting out a roar that could be heard by all of creation. Even mermaids stirred in their watery slumber. The heavens opened, and the earth shifted. Buildings toppled in on themselves, and volcanoes exploded into the sky. The TV weather girl was screaming at the top of her voice, but no-one could hear her.
I damned the skies and packed my case, seeking the refuge of other mortals. And at times the faeries would give me glimpses of her, but they could never fill the hole left by my angel. So now I am left staring up through the clouds at night, hoping and waiting.
The moral of this story is that happiness is finding contentment with the faeries. Mermaids are hard to find. And angels belong in heaven. If one happens to fall to earth, avert your eyes and move on. They will find their own way home, without your heart.
Fallen Angel
She longed to bare the knife-throwers scars
Leaving her cushioned comfort
And stepping out into a world of broken glass
I chased and charmed, but could not hold
More than a fist-full of feathers
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