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Rated: E · Fiction · Contest Entry · #1873237
A fairy tale of friendship.
"Get off of my head you great, fat beast!"

"You know I can't watch from anywhere else. I need a close seat."

"You're not even facing the right way! How can ye see anything facing backwards?"

"You forget that I have eight eyes. I can see every which way."

"Hrrrmph!"

The little man gathered his taylor's tools around him. The princess's gown had to be ready by dusk tomorrow and he had only been given two days in which to complete the task. Green and white thread and material. Why always green and white? Why not other colors for the miss?

He sat about his work, grumbling to himself and snapping at the fat-bodied spider on his head. The beast gave him fits yet was great company in the little man's tiny cell.

"You're in my light."

"Phooey on your light. The sun is setting. They will be here soon to check your progress."

"Hrrrmph!"

Footsteps in the hallway and the clanging of keys in the lock.

"Shouldn't you be scuttling off to a dark corner now?"

"No, I don't think so, why? Are you ashamed of me?"

More grumbling from the old man.

The door swung open and a lovely little girl, all golden curls and big green eyes looked at him. The king stood behind his daughter. The little man was breathless. Green and white miss? I'll sew them colors every day and never again complain. Just for you.What a precious child! Who then screamed.

"Father! A spider! I hate spiders! Kill it!"

Swiftly, the king came round his daughter, knocked the little man to the floor. The spider rolled off his head. The king put an end to it with a hard stomp.

"Thank you, Father," the cherubic child cooed.

"No bother, my sweet daughter."

The little man sat in awestruck horror. His eyes glued to the squashed body of his friend. Yes, friend. There I said it! Gonna miss the little bugger. A tiny tear fought to escape the corner of his eye.

"Well then," spoke the king. "Make sure that gown is ready by dusk tomorrow." He and the girl swept from the room.

"Ready indeed," hissed the little man. "Ready indeed."

Murmuring words so ancient that he didn't even remember the meaning, he spit on the thread and bound the spell into the very fabric of the princess's gown. You shall be lonely to the end of your days. You will never know true love nor friendship.

The tear slipped down his cheek and splashed on the spider's remains. Dust filled the air then it and the body were gone.

© Copyright 2012 Nikola~Santa Bring a Pony! (nmarshall at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1873237-June-11--Sew