A poet, a picker, and a playwright.
Once upon a time there lived a girl with starlight hair and swamp green eyes, in a house made of sugar that dissolved when it rained. She was not a special girl, except that she could laugh, and turn rags into dresses.
She sat on the stoop of her candy house, and watched the world, legs crossed, and laughing. The world, to her, was a funny place, and she was very content, just as she was.
One day she met a poet, with a face of granite, and a voice like an ancient forgotten language. He told her stories of pain and hurt, and his words were beautiful and enchanting, though he promised her nothing. He wanted her to leave her candy house and follow his stories, but the girl refused, because her heart did not sing for him.
On a cloudy day, while the girl watched the skies wrestle with the idea of rain, a picker came and sat a while on her stoop. He had hair like a wild man, and a beard with too much wax, and he played her songs of her homeland, full of twang and wise words. But his playing did nothing for her heart, and though he tried, she would not leave her candy house.
As the years passed, and the world grew, the girl sat, and made dresses, and laughed lines into her face. She came to her front porch one morning to find a playwright. He knew her well, though they'd never met, and she wondered if he'd ask her to leave her candy house. But he was a very busy player, with many places to travel, and he left to go play, and she wished him well.
Happy, with cheeks that had grown round from years of candy and laughter, the girl ventured off her stoop, in a pink dress she'd made from spun sugar and old dreams. She crossed the street, to the big red house with large doors, and asked for the knight that rode out to save the world, day after day.
As he took her hand, her heart sang, and she left her candy house for good, to laugh beside her knight, and they lived happily ever after.