Snowy the pussycat fat and fluffy,

Fell in love with her owner’s son Jerry!

Besides all her fur, she adored his hair

And that was the reason, she wanted to pair!

Days passed by and Jerry went abroad

But when he returned, he was bald and broad!

Snowy was depressed and wanted to end her life

And adding to her distress, he returned with a wife!

Sitting in a corner, she started to cry

That was when Jerry’s wife, waved her a hi.

‘Can we have her, please?’ she asked her hubby

‘Is that even a question?’ replied Jerry.

‘Did he just accept me?’ exclaimed Snowy

As her now new owner, sang her a lullaby.

Then her days were filled with love and laughter

And together they lived, happily ever after.   

Shirley

She walked down the street ducking behind each tree and summersaulting in the gaps between the trees. Like a the stereotypical knight(on a budget of course), she was dressed in boots, a coat, and her brother’s Batman costume - the kind with fake squishy muscles. She had covered it all over with tin foil so she was shiny. I even helped make the sword which was cardboard and also covered in tin foil.

I watched her from my window as she approached my house. She tumbled/rolled through the grass of my front yard and ducked under the branches is the weeping willow beneath my window. I watched the tree while singing until her head popped out of the leaves. For a second I wanted to laugh, but I stopped myself, so I wouldn’t ruin the mood.

My house is the castle, and I, obviously, am the princess. She calls up from below, “Princess, are you ok?” What a silly question... “No, I’m not ok!” I shout back down to the tree “I’m a helpless princess stuck in a castle. Why do you even need to ask me that?”

Micky

“No, I’m not ok! I’m a helpless princess stuck in a castle. Why do you even need to ask me that?” She yells back at me.

If you’re in a castle already, why do you need to leave? And it ruins the game more when she asks me why I do things wrong than me actually doing whatever it is wrong. I don’t understand why she can’t just play along.

I’m dressed as a handsome knight, and sweating my butt off in these leggings and this Batman suit. It’s 72 degrees outside today, and the only good thing about the costume is that the tin foil reflects the sun. I wish I could be the princess in the cool tower wearing a flowy dress and the tiara on top of the wig that looks like Rapunzel’s hair. Instead I’m stuck on the ground and in a tree wearing clothes meant for halloween in the middle of summer covered in tin foil because Shirley told me only she could be the princess because she had a pretty princess dress and besides she’d said, it was her house that looked like a castle not mine. So I let her be the princess. Every. Single. Time.

Shirley

She should know the routine by now. I think to myself. “Why do you always mess up? You do it on purpose don’t you! You should know what to say by now because you are always the knight!” I holler down to her. She gets little winky tears in her eyes, and I think she might cry.

“I know what you want me to say, but I don’t want to be the knight anymore. You’re always the princess because you say you’re more beautiful and it’s your house that is the castle and you own the dress, but I’m hot from wearing this Batman suit, and I want to be a beautiful princess too, but you won’t let me, and I’m tired of saying the same things over and over again, so I say different things to make it interesting!” She yells up at me.

“Well, you can’t be the princess because you have a guy name!” I shout back. “Plus you’re too ugly to be one!”

“At least I’m skinnier than you!”

“Well at least I have blonde hair and not red hair!”

She turns pink, which does not compliment her red hair, and disappears under the leaves of the tree. A second later, I see her running down the block and turning the corner dropping the Batman muscle on the sidewalk as she runs.

Mickey

I run away as fast as I can. She called me ugly, and she doesn’t think my red hair is as pretty as her blonde hair. I sit down on the sidewalk and rub the sleeve of my shirt under my nose and sniffle. Maybe she’s right. I should never be the princess. I’m only good enough to be the knight. I sit sneaking tears for a bit thinking I should go home, but I don't. Not yet.

I hear a soft cough behind me, and I turn to see Shirley back in shorts and a tank top standing behind me. She holds out the dress and tiara to me, and I stare at them. When I don’t take them, she sits down netxt to me and stares across the street. “I’m sorry for being a J-word.” She says earnestly, and I pay attention. “I know...”

Shirley

“...I can be unbearable and mean sometimes. I need to get better at sharing and being nice to others. I just wanted you to know, I want you to be the princess from now on. I’m giving you the dress, but we might have to tie it up a little bit because you’re a little shorter than I am.”

She looks at me now instead of the concrete sidewalk, and I look away, so I don't regret it.

Mikey

“You are letting me be the princess?” I gasp. “Yes. And I want you to keep the dress too. You can borrow my castle whenever we play.” She tells me. I wrap my arms around her middle and my voice gets all squeaky. “Thank you so much!” I squeal. She picks up the tiara and puts it in my red hair where it catches the light just right and sends a sprinkle of rainbows scattered over the sidewalk. “It was meant to be...” she trailed off in awe while staring at the rainbow covered ground.

Shirley

I felt like such a good person, and it felt nice. I gave her the dress and tiara, and she looked so happy like I turned her into an actual princess. She looked like The Little Mermaid sitting there with the tiara on her bright red hair. She looked so pretty, and for a moment I felt really jealous. I’ll never tell her she’d make a great Little Mermaid, but I do tell her...

Mickey

“You’d make a great dragon!” She suddenly exclaims as we walk back to her house. I squint at her with my nose scrunched up, and she continues, “Your hair could be like the fire the dragon breaths out. Ooh ooh! If it’s a windy day, it would look like there’s a dancing fire around your head!” She seems so excited, so I just laugh and say, “I guess I’d make a pretty good dragon.”

He appeared around a street corner when I was lost, when I was turning in disoriented half-circles while the glassy buildings stared blankly from their many identical windows, and there were busy people everywhere and nothing that pointed me in any useful direction.

He blended in, in his nondescript business suit, with his hair carefully styled to look like nothing much at all. But he also stood out.

I don’t know why he stood out, but I noticed him as he came around that corner, so very at home between the walls of chrome and glass and whatever else the walls of the intersection were made of. His purposeful walk, his carefully neutral smile, his eye contact.

It was the most terrifying eye contact.

It was like seeing a sidewalk looking at you, he seemed so commonplace, and so out of place. I couldn’t look away. And then there was no point, because he’d already seen me staring back at him.

He walked straight over to me, as if that had been his plan all along.

“Hello,” he said, with a little hand-lift-not-quite-wave and a flash of teeth. He was smooth. Easy. Easy does it. As if I was a skittish animal.

“You’re looking a little lost. Need some directions?”

I was just sort of staring at him awkwardly at this point. I managed some stuttered vowel sounds and a shrug.

“Where are you headed?” he asked.

“Um...” My mind was totally blank, and I couldn’t for the life of me remember. What was I even doing in this city? He was messing with my brain, I tell you.

“Well, let me introduce myself while you figure it out.” He holds out his hand for me to shake, and he does it in such a self-assured way, as if he’s offering me the world’s greatest opportunity, the one I’ve been dreaming about all my life, and it makes me want to punch him in the face.

Instead, I look at his hand. I notice his fingernails, a perfectly trimmed rim of white framing the tip of each one. I reach for his hand sort of slowly, like I’m not sure if I’m going to take it or not. Well, I’m not sure.

He grabs me up again with that eye contact of his, and I see something in his eyes that wasn’t there before, and his mouth curves neatly up at the corners.

“That’s right,” he says, ”take my hand.”

And then I really want to punch him, but instead my hand is sliding into his, and he’s giving it a firm, businesslike shake, and my stomache’s bunching up and the street is disappearing around us and no one hurrying by even notices.

And then they’re gone, and the glass and chrome and all of it is gone, and it’s only me, and the handshake, and the eye contact.

And then he’s gone too. And it’s only me. Alone.

And then everything’s back, we’re on the street again, everyone’s rushing by just as they were, and I haven’t yet taken his hand. But he still has that thing in his eyes.

I really want to punch him in the face. Instead, I turn and run.

"You'll never catch us!" The crayon gang yelled, laughing at me. A purple, red, green and pink crayon all made faces and ran around my house.

"C'mon friends, I can't draw without you!" I pleaded.

"You can't draw anyway, you can barely make a stick figure buddy!" The crayons taunted. I thought about how much I hate it when my crayons are right. I decided to write something instead, and I signed into Prose to see what kind of writing challenges were available. And that's when I saw the Walmart ad for Shout Color Catcher, and I read the words "Keep colors from running." Yes! This is exactly what I needed!

"Enjoy your games while you can crayons, I'm going to go buy something that will stop you from running from me!" I said heatedly as I grabbed my keys and walked out the door. A ten minute drive to Walmart and I was at the customer service desk, my phone in hand. I showed the clerk the ad on my phone and told her my dilemma.

"So your crayons are running away from you?" The clerk asked, not sounding like she believed me for some reason.

"Yeah." I said confidently. "Where can I find this product? It says it will stop colors from running?"

"It is in the cleaning aisles." The clerk said. "However, this product is intended for laundry, not for rogue crayons. Maybe you should just buy some new crayons instead?"

"Well, ok...." I responded, feeling disappointed that this Shout product wasn't the solution I had anticipated. Then an idea came to me. I would buy a nice new box of crayons. Once the crayons at home realized they were being ignored, they would beg to be used by me for drawing again. I quickly ran to the school supplies aisle and excitedly grabbed a new box of crayons. I purchased the box and walked back to my car, confident that this plan would work. I could have sworn a giggle came from the new box of crayons. "Nah, just my imagination." I said to myself as I thought about all the art I would create at home...