A Very Handsome Man with Enormous Wings

Greetings, reader. Last week, we looked at The Myth of The Condor. This week, I wrote a modern version of this fairy tale below.

The birds even sing on cloudy days.

Rosa looked out over the hills. There wasn't even a shepherd in sight, just a few birds. Perfect. She sat down on the side of the hill and pulled out her sketch pad. As a kid, Rosa had run all over these hills. Now as an adult, it was kind of fun to run over them again and sketch what she saw. It was better to be out here, where the cell reception was spotty, than at home, anyway. No matter that her drawings sold and made decent money, her father wanted her to get a real job. He didn't see how much time and effort it was to make these drawings and sell them online. All he saw was her drawing, using the internet, and biking into town to the post office.

Sighing, Rosa pushed those thoughts from her mind and began to draw what was in front of her. Soon, she'd have enough saved up to move away. Until then, she drew not only because she loved it but also for her own sanity.

"That's really good."

Rosa jumped. She had sworn no one had been around before, and she definitely would have noticed this handsome man.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine. I just didn't know you were there."

"So when did you start drawing? You must have started very young." he asked.

"Yeah, I drew some as a kid, but I actually started studying it a few years ago. That's helped a lot."

"I guess so." He smiled at her sketch pad. "May I sit?"

"Sure."

Without really realizing it, Rosa started opening up to this man who liked her drawings. It was nice to talk about her art without judgement. After awhile, Rosa realized she needed to get home. "What's your name?" she asked, embarrassed that she didn't know.

"Conrad," he said with a smile.

"My name is Rosa."

"Will you be out here again tomorrow?"

"Probably," Rosa replied, trying not to blush.

"Then I'll try to come find you again."

Rosa smiled and turned to go back home. She realized that she could walk Conrad back toward town, but when she turned around to find him, he was gone.

Every day, Rosa went out to the hills. She got some drawing done, but she was more interested in seeing Conrad. Eventually, she realized she was in love with him. Rosa had been working on sketching him. When it was finished, she gave it to Conrad as a gift.

"This is wonderful," he said, looking at it in awe.

"So are you," Rosa said, blushing. "I love you."

Conrad looked up from the drawing at her. "And I you."

Their first kiss had to be passionate, born from these words. He pulled her to him and Rosa wrapped her arms around him. Rosa's heart was full. She felt like she was flying! Then, with a lurch, Rosa realized she was flying. She broke their kiss and looked at Conrad. There were two black wings coming out of his back, flapping.

"Don't worry. I won't drop you."

Terrified, Rosa looked at the ground below. Reflexively, she closed her eyes and tightened her hold on Conrad. This didn't make sense. None of this made sense. How could he have grown wings? And how could he be carrying them both? It was impossible, yet here she was. Rosa kept her eyes shut until they landed.

She slowly opened her eyes and loosened her death grip on Conrad. "Welcome to my home," Conrad said.

"Where are we?" Rosa asked.

"I call it my nest. I'm renting this house for awhile."

"Awhile?"

"Yes." Conrad stepped back a pace. "I suppose I should tell you who I really am."

Rosa stepped back, too. Her hand strayed to the phone in her back pocket. She wondered if she had signal out here.

"I am a man and a condor," Conrad began, his wings disappearing.

"The bird?" Rosa asked.

"Yes," Conrad replied.

"Have you been cursed?" Rosa asked, her find full of old tales.

Conrad said nothing and looked away for a moment. "I can't stay in one spot for too long, but I want to stay here as long as I can. With you."

Rosa smiled, then stopped. "But how will I get home?"

Conrad's smile fell. "Once you leave, I have to leave too and I can never come back here."

Rosa stared at him. "If you hadn't just flown me here, I would never believe this."

"I know," Conrad replied. "It's crazy. Magic often is."

"So it was a curse," Rosa said.

Conrad was silent for a moment. "Let me show you my house," he said.

Rosa knew it was foolish, but she still trusted Conrad. The more he explained, what he would explain, the more it made sense to Rosa. After all, she loved this man and he loved her back. She knew he would never lie to her.

So, Rosa sent a text to her dad saying she was going to be gone for awhile and not to worry. It took about twenty minutes to send and Rosa didn't bother waiting for a reply before she turned her phone off. "What about my things?" she asked.

"I can get them tomorrow when your father is at work," Conrad replied. "I'll fly there as a condor and get them for you."

"Thanks," Rosa replied, still unsettled by his dual nature. Still, she forgot it quickly over dinner and had no objection to snuggling up next to him to sleep that night.

Over the next several weeks, Rosa found herself falling more in love with Conrad. After all, everything she knew about his soul was still true. It was just also true that sometimes he had feathers. She missed the outside world, but she got enough signal on her phone to keep up with most of her friends, and Conrad had a laptop with internet access. Although, this was also too slow to be worth using most days. Mostly, they spent time together and Rosa was able to draw as much as she liked. It was a peaceful life.

Then, one day, Rosa realized she was pregnant.

"You're pregnant? That's amazing!" Conrad said when she told him. "I'm going to be a father." He looked at her. "You're going to be a mother."

Rosa looked away. "How can we get him baptized?" She thought for a moment. "And how are we going to get married?"

"I didn't know that was important to you," Conrad said.

Rosa found herself nodding. It hadn't bothered her before, but now that they were going to have a child...

"I'll go talk to the priest," Conrad said. "There's no reason he can't come up here to marry us."

"You've got to ask me first," Rosa pointed out.

"Oh, right," Conrad replied. He took Rosa's hands in his. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Rosa yelled. She kissed him and cheered.

The priest Conrad brought up to marry them wasn't one Rosa knew, but as long as they were married, she was happy.

It seemed like forever and yet no time at all before she was giving birth to a son. They named him Eduardo and he lit up their lives. One day, while she was watching him sleep, Rosa realized that her father needed to meet Eduardo. She realized she missed her father very much. It had been about a year since she'd last seen him. Still, she knew what Conrad would say. If she left this house, she could never return.

"I'm sure one little trip couldn't hurt," Rosa thought. She knew where they were now and it was only half a day's journey to walk home. Rosa thought about this for the next several days. It distressed her to keep it from Conrad, but she knew what he would say and she didn't want to hear it.

So, one day, when Rosa knew Conrad would be gone all day, she  packed a bag for the baby, tied him around her, and set off. It was a long walk with Eduardo on her and his bag got heavier and heavier. Still, Rosa used to walk much farther than this carrying all of her art supplies and a lunch. She only had to stop to feed Eduardo a few times before she made it home.

"Rosa!" her father yelled.

"Papa!" Rosa cried. They hugged, being careful not to squish the baby.

"Was I not invited to the wedding?" her father asked carefully.

"No, but very few were," Rosa said. "My husband has a curse on him."

"A curse?"

"It's an expression." Although she believed in it now, she didn't want to explain to her father. Rosa unwrapped Eduardo a bit. "Meet your grandson, Eduardo."

As soon as he saw his grandson, Rosa knew all was forgiven. They spent the best afternoon together that they had in ages. "Can you drive us home?" Rosa asked as the sun was beginning to set. "I want you to meet my husband."

"Of course!"

Rosa could have asked him for anything right then and he would have agreed. They loaded up the car and Rosa gave her father directions. The road didn't go all the way up to the house, but it would be a much shorter walk. When they started the trip, Rosa was happy, but the further they drove, the more distressed she became. When they finally ran out of road, Rosa leapt from the car and ran to the house.

It was still there, but all of Conrad's things were gone. He had left that first drawing she had done of him on the bed with a red rose on top of it.

Rosa collapsed. How could she have been so stupid? He had told her not to leave!

It seemed like ages before she felt her father's comforting hand on her shoulder. "Oh, my dear," he said.

"He didn't want to go," Rosa choked out. "It's his curse. He told me so."

"Of course he did, my dear." They stayed like that for a moment or two before Rosa finally pulled herself up from the floor. She looked around at the wreckage of her life and then at her son, sleeping peacefully in her father's arms.

"I think," Rosa took a moment to pull herself together. "I think I need to come home."

"Of course, my dear. Of course."

The Myth of the Condor

Just flying away with another captive.

Hello, dear reader. This week's tale, The Myth of the Condor, comes to us from Peru. If you're not familiar with this story, click the link above to read it. If you are, continue reading and we'll analyze it together.

This story has something you very rarely see in fairy tales: an actual courtship. This guy and girl actually get to know each other and get to like each other before they go live together and start having children. Granted, he kidnapped her, but apparently she fell in love with him anyway. I have questions about the condor. Was he just being a jerk or did he have some sort of reason for kidnapping this girl? Could he only appear as a human outside of his nest for so many days before he couldn't be seen by humans again? We are given no explanation, so it looks like the condor is just a jerk.

I am also curious about this girl. She grew to like and trust this handsome young man. Even after he kidnapped her, she fell in love with him, had his child, and still loved him. However, even though she loved the condor, there is nothing in the story about her asking to see her father or any kind of negotiation. It seems she can either live with the condor and miss her father or she can live with her father and miss the condor. It bothers me that we're not told why she can't have both. Again, it just makes the condor look like a villain for keeping her away from her father.

We also know very little about the girl's father. She certainly missed him, but did he miss her? We don't know if he went to look for her. Did the girl tell her father about the handsome stranger? Did he know she was befriending a man no one else had seen? Or did her father see them together one day and decide not to bother them? We know the girl's father cared enough to come rescue her from the condor's nest. When the plot needed him to act, he did, but that's the only thing he does in this story. I like this story; the set-up intrigues me. I just wish we had more detail about the characters in it.

The moral of this story is: don't let anyone pick you up. Alternatively, if you find yourself trapped in a condor's nest, make sure you have something to bribe a hummingbird with so you can be freed.

Think of something I missed? Have an alternate moral to this story? Know a story you want me to talk about? Comment below!

Song Bird

Greetings, reader. Last week, I wrote about The Juniper Tree. This week, I wrote a modern version of this fairy tale. Why should all of these stories end up with everyone in therapy?

He's secretly a brilliant singer.

As soon as they moved into their new house, Elsie started talking about where they were going to plant juniper tree. Paul smiled and suggested the backyard. "Perfect!" Elsie said. "Then, when it gets big, we can sit under it in the shade." She went out that weekend, got a tree, and planted it. It was the summer, so it wasn't the best time to plant a tree, but Elsie knew it would grow just fine. The few leaves on the other trees deepened with their oncoming decay and fell, but the juniper tree, an evergreen, kept its scant greenery even after every other tree was bare. Elise and Paul would sit inside their new house and look out at the snow and the little tree, cuddled together under a red blanket.

The seasons changed and as spring came, Elsie began to bloom with the plants. She grew rounder and full of new life just as the flowers began to blossom, and after her doctor's visits, she would go sit in their backyard, sniff the flowers, look up at their juniper tree and smile. As the months got warmer, she got larger, until finally the leaves began to decay and fall from the trees again. Then she released her new life into the world. Jonathan Ivan was born on September 1st and he was beautiful. However, the birth was harder on Elsie than anyone had anticipated. As the leaves crumbled into powder and the snow fell, Elsie's life slipped away and Paul was left alone with baby Jon. What they did not know was that Elsie was determined never to leave her family. She was going to stay and look after Jon until he could look after himself. So, although her body was no longer her home, she found a new home in the juniper tree, and there she stayed.

Jon grew and grew and was soon walking. He seemed to love the juniper tree just as Elsie had and Paul often spent afternoons in the backyard with him under the juniper tree. Elsie longed for a way to reach out and hug her baby, but she couldn't reach him. She had to pretend that when he was propped up against the tree, he was cuddling her. Soon, he was running and talking and growing and growing. It seemed like no time at all before he was a little boy and getting excellent grades in school. Paul had told Jon all about the juniper tree, so sometimes Jon would come to the backyard alone and talk to the tree. He confided his fears, talked about his problems, and trumpeted his joys. Elsie loved it all. She just wished she could do something for him, but trees move so slowly and Elsie couldn't get the energy to move the juniper tree faster.

Then, Paul and another woman began to sit in the backyard. Elsie knew she shouldn't be surprised that Paul found another woman to love, but Elsie didn't like her. There was something wrong about her and wrong about the way she looked at Jon. Like he was a bug in her house. Elsie learned the woman's name was Margaret and her daughter, just a few years younger than Jon, was named Trisha. At least Trisha was a normal, happy girl. Occasionally, she and Jon would play outside and Elsie smiled at their games. Eventually, Elsie saw the mother and daughter every day and realized Paul had married Margaret. Elsie cried inside the tree and drew into herself, shutting out the world around her.

She had no concept of how long she stayed like that. One day, however, she heard Trisha scream from inside the house. At once, Elsie was alert, but she couldn't see what had happened. She would give anything to be in that house right now, but all she could manage was to move some of her branches a little. Frustrated, Elsie waited. Jon hadn't stopped coming out to talk to the juniper tree, although now he just thought out loud while he sat underneath. Elsie would have to wait for Jon to tell her what had happened. Trisha had been scared out of her wits and Elsie would bet anything it was something serious. Elsie had to wait almost all day, but it wasn't Jon who came out of the house. It was Trisha. She was crying and from her red eyes, it looked like she had been crying for a long time. She had something wrapped up in one of her scarves. Trisha walked slowly to the juniper tree and carefully set her bundle down so the tree was between it and the house.

It was an oddly shaped bundle. Elsie tried to get a better look at it, but it was already evening, so the light wasn't good and Trisha had left the scarf around it. Sobbing, Trisha looked at the bundle. "I'm sorry, Jon," she said. "I didn't think your head would fall off, but Mom said..." She trailed off and looked at the bundle. "Mom lied," she whispered to herself. Trisha looked scared and glanced back toward the house. She shivered.

"Trisha! Come inside, dear!" Margaret's voice sounded different. Something had happened and Elsie knew Trisha's bundle was at the heart of it.

"I'm sorry," Trisha sobbed one more time at the bundle. Then she ran inside.

Now that Trisha was gone, Elsie could focus more on the bundle. Why was Trisha apologizing to Jon? Was something of his inside that scarf? Just then, a small wind blew up and opened the scarf. Inside of it were bones. Elsie could feel her sap freeze. This was Jon. Trisha had said his head fell off. Elsie had known there was something wrong with Margaret, but she hadn't been able to tell Paul and now this had happened! This was all wrong! Knowing it could take all night, Elsie set herself to bend forward to at least cradle the bones of her child to her. She didn't want him to be dead. Maybe there was something she could do about that, but she had to touch him first.

It took until dawn, but Elsie finally was able to put some of her branches on Jon's bones. As luck would have it, a red-winged blackbird landed in her branches not long after. "I'm sorry," Elsie thought at the cardinal. Then, with a twist she wasn't sure how she knew, Elsie put Jon's spirit into the bird. The bird hopped up in surprise and nearly fell out of the tree. "I'm alive?" it asked. It worked! Elsie tried to tell Jon everything, but he flew away before she could say anything. Still, she had brought him back to life and had managed to hide his bones inside her tree. She thought they might be useful later. Now empty, Trisha's scarf blew away in the morning breeze.
-
Jon had never been a bird before, but he caught on quickly how to fly. His heart was bursting with a sad song, so he landed somewhere to sing. He had liked playing with words before, but they had never arranged themselves in his mind so quickly before, even if the rhyme scheme could use some work.

"Margaret killed me and tricked my sister.
All that chopping gave her a blister.
My father ate me, all by himself.
Now here I sit, a bird on a shelf."

"Well, now, I've never seen a bird that sings words before," a man said, coming out of a shop

Jon stared at him. "You can understand me?" he asked.

"I sure can," the man replied, looking up at him. "And you've got the best voice I've ever heard."

"Really?" Jon asked.

"Sing again," the man said, pulling out his phone.

A plan began to form in Jon's mind. "I will, if you get me something to eat."

"Sure," the man said. "Not a problem."

So, Jon opened his beak and sang the same song. The man recorded the whole thing; then he went back inside the store he'd just been in. He came out with a bag of birdseed that he pulled open and spread on the ground. Cautiously, Jon flew down from the tree and began eating. It wasn't his idea of a meal, but he wasn't sure what else he could eat. Thankfully, the man stayed far away and didn't try to touch Jon. After he was done, Jon flew back into the tree.

As people came by that day, Jon sang for some of them and soon he had a crowd. Surprisingly, none of the people seemed to think what Jon sang about was real. The news vans pulled up not long after that and Jon sang for them.

"We have here what many are calling a miracle," the reporter said, looking up at the tree.

"Can't I just be magic?" Jon asked.

The reporter flinched and turned to face him. "Did...did you just speak?" she asked.

"I sure did," Jon said. "Why do I have to be a miracle? I think I'm magic."

"Oh," the reporter said weakly. Then she pulled herself together. "Why do you think you're magic?"

Jon thought. He didn't want to get Trisha in trouble. Besides, even if he tried to say Margaret killed him and take her to court, he didn't think the testimony of a bird would go that far. "Because I'm the only one like me," he settled on.

"What are your plans, Mr. Bird?"

"My name is Jon. Plans? Well, it would be great to be a famous singer." Jon said it with a bird-laugh, but that was exactly what he wanted.

"Well, if any recording studios are watching the news, you just might be," the reporter told him.

"Good," Jon said.

"So how did you come by these magic powers?" the reporter asked.

Jon pondered. He didn't remember much after he got murdered. Just an impression of his mother, and then he was a bird in a tree. That wasn't a good story. "I'm a ghost possession gone wrong," Jon told her in a confidential tone.

In later interviews, Jon would make up different stories to explain his existence. When asked why his story changed every time, Jon said it was more fun that way, but really he didn't want to tell anyone the truth. Soon after his first interview, Jon did sign with a record company. He made sure all of his royalties went into a bank account the record company couldn't touch. It was under his legal name, although his stage name was Jon Bird, and only he knew the pin for the account. Jon had the record company direct deposit all of his checks and, from time to time, he would check his balance online to make sure he was actually getting paid. He was a singer and a songwriter, but Jon knew the novelty of a singing and talking bird was going to wear away quickly. So, one night after they finished recording his latest track for his latest album, he flew out an open window.

He had gone shopping online and had a few things delivered to his old house. They were supposed to get there the next day, but Jon intended to beat them. He got there in the morning and flew into the juniper tree to wait. It seemed to welcome him back and, after his family had left for work or school, Jon told the tree what he had been up to. It seemed like the right thing to do. Once the packages arrived, Jon flew down and brought them up into the tree, one by one. He struggled with the third package, but that one was the most important to get in the tree. Jon made sure it was across a few branches so the branches didn't break.

Not too much later, Jon saw his family come trickling home. As soon as his father pulled up, Jon began singing:

"Margaret killed me and tricked my sister.
All that chopping gave her a blister.
My father ate me, all by himself.
Now here I sit, a bird on a shelf."

Cautiously, Paul poked his head out of the house. "Hello?" he asked.

Jon settled his feathers and sang his song again. Then he flew down from the tree and dropped a new Rolex into his father's startled hands.

"Trisha! Margaret! Come outside. It's just like that famous bird!" Paul yelled. He looked down at the watch. "And he gave me a watch," Paul muttered, confused.

Trisha came out of the house and Jon was surprised at how much she had grown, although he hadn't been away that long. Jon opened his beak and sang:

"Margaret killed me and tricked my sister.
All that chopping gave her a blister.
My father ate me, all by himself.
Now here I sit, a bird on a shelf."

Then he flew down and gave Trisha a pair of red shoes. Jon hoped they would fit.

"Margaret!" Paul yelled into the house. "You have to come out here and see this bird."

"I feel terrible," Margaret whined back. "My head is splitting."

"Come on out here," Paul said. "It's not every day you see this."

"Well, I suppose not," Margaret said. "Maybe the bird's song will make me feel better." She stumbled out of the house. They all looked expectantly up at Jon, but he was picking up the final package with his beak. He had ordered a heavy set of weights and Jon wasn't sure how he was able to pick them up, but he managed it. Then he flew over and dropped them square on Margaret's head.

She died instantly, which was the most that Jon owed her. Paul and Trisha stared at Margaret's body in shock. Then Jon felt himself being pulled back to the juniper tree. He was covered with its branches and then he began to change. It felt very strange, like he was having an out of body experience. Or perhaps having the experience of two bodies. When it was over, Jon was sitting on the ground in front of the juniper tree and he was in his own body again.

"Hi, Dad. Hi, Trisha," Jon said.

"Jon?!" Paul yelled. He ran over to his son. "What happened? How are you here?!" He swept his son up in a hug. Trisha was right behind him. For a moment, Jon just let them hug him.

"What happened?" Paul asked again as they separated. Then he looked over at Margaret's body. "Let's go inside," he said. "You can tell us all about it then."

As they headed in, Jon decided what he told his dad was going to be different from what he told his sister. He didn't want his dad to think he was crazy, but he was going to tell Trisha the truth. Maybe he'd say he got kidnapped somehow. That made as much sense as anything else. Still, Jon reflected, at least no one in the house wanted to kill him anymore. Life was going to be a lot easier now.

The Juniper Tree

It's haunted, but in a good way.

Salutations, reader. This week, we'll be looking at The Juniper Tree. Although it's pretty gruesome, this fairy tale is one of my favorites, so we have looked at this story before on this blog. Still, it warrants another look.

When I read this story, I'm always struck by how similar it is to one of the versions of Cinderella: the main character's mom dies in childbirth and is buried under a tree, the stepmother is abusive and when the protagonist can't take it any more, the mother/tree performs magic to make it all work out. Of course, in Cinderella's story, her magic is to get someone else to save her, while in the Juniper Tree the protagonist can save himself. Then again, in The Juniper Tree, he had to die first.

Moving right along, let's talk about Marlene, the stepsister. She is clearly a nice person, but she's either not very bright, or she got overwhelmed when her stepbrother's head slid off. I would be shocked by that too, but I would know there was no way smacking him on the ear would make his head fall off. She obviously regrets it because she spends the rest of the story crying, eventually crying blood. Despite her lack of sense in thinking she killed her brother, Marlene's actions let him come back. It was only after she put his bones under the juniper tree that he turned into a bird and eventually became a little boy again. So her actions ended up working out.

What makes less sense is the father's reaction to his second wife's death. He could have put it together that the pretty bird killed her, but he doesn't say anything about that. He doesn't ask where the bird went, or why his son is home so soon from his trip. No questions. He just goes back inside and they all eat. Magic seems to be a pretty common thing since no one finds the bird strange. Maybe the dad was afraid to question it. The bird gave him a gold necklace, but maybe he thinks it would drop a millstone on him too if he asked questions. Of course, the story does say all three of them were very happy at the end. I guess he didn't like the stepmother either.

The moral of this story is: if you murder someone and cook them into a stew, don't let your daughter take the bones anywhere or your victim will come back for revenge. Either that or, don't be a jerk and kill someone.

Like that story? Have one you want me to talk about? Comment below!

You Are my Springtime

Greetings, reader. Last week, I analyzed The Story of Persephone. This week, I'm rewriting the story and putting a modern twist on it. Enjoy!

Sometimes, Spring and Winter mix together.

Flower was starting to get frustrated with her mother. After Flower had graduated college, she'd had to come home. Despite her shiny, new degree she couldn't find a job. Her mother was more than willing to let her stay at home, but it seemed Denise never wanted her daughter to leave.

"You are my springtime," Denise would tell her before hugging her. "You take your time finding a job. You'll still live here, right?"

"I love you too, Mom," Flower replied. And she did, but she couldn't help but be jealous as most of her friends posted pictures of their first apartment and started their first real jobs. It just didn't seem fair. Still, Flower stayed home and diligently applied to jobs, wondering how many different ways she could say the same thing in her cover letters. Slowly, the interviews began coming in, and then Flower got a job offer. She was going to be an administrative assistant for a hospital.

She went out with her friends that night to celebrate and came into the office in her business casual best that Monday.

"Your name is Flower?" the HR manager, Linda, asked dubiously.

Flower had long ago gotten used to this. She decided to go with the humorous reply this time. "Yup. When your Mom's a hippie at heart, that's the kind of name you end up with." She laughed and shrugged.

Linda smiled. "I see. Well, welcome to the hospital. Let me know if you have any questions."

Flower smiled and nodded. This was going to be a great job. Several people came by her desk to introduce themselves, but the guy who caught her eye never came over.

On her second day, Flower asked her new friend, Melody, who that guy with the brooding good looks was.

"Oh," Melody replied. "That's Harvey. He's all right."

"All right?" Flower asked.

"Yeah. Just don't get him started talking about his dog. He will not stop." Melody laughed. Flower had never had a dog, but she liked her friends' dogs.

Later that day, Flower managed to make her way over to his desk.

"Hi," she said. Harvey looked up. "I'm new here and-"

"Oh yeah. Flower, right?" Harvey asked.

"That's me," Flower replied with a smile. "It's kind of a dumb name."

"I think it's nice," Harvey replied with a smile. It was really at odds with his black hair and...was he wearing eyeliner?

"You're the first person who's said that to me in years," Flower said, remembering a childhood of far too understanding adults.

Harvey laughed. "So, do you have a favorite flower?"

"Not really," Flower replied.

Harvey laughed. "Perfect. Hey, you're going to the happy hour on Friday, right?"

"Yeah," Flower replied with a smile. "I am now," she thought.

''Great. I'll see you there."

"See you there," Flower said. As she walked away, she hoped her face wasn't turning too red.

Flower didn't tell her mother about the happy hour until Friday morning. "I'll be home late tonight," Flower said around a mouthful of cereal.

"How come? Are they making you work overtime on your first week?" Flower could tell her mom was beginning to get riled up.

"No. There's a happy hour after work." Flower smiled.

"Oh. I suppose it would be good to bond with your new coworkers."

"Yup," Flower said finishing her cereal. "Well, I've got to get to the bus stop. Bye, Mom!"

"Bye," Denise replied, sounding slightly dazed.

"She'll get used to this," Flower thought, walking toward the bus stop. Once she had some money in the bank, her first big purchase was going to be a car.

Flower made her way through the day trying not to stare at the clock. She just wanted that happy hour to come sooner so she could hang out with Harvey. She had walked past his desk earlier, when he was away, and glanced at the pictures he had up. He did have some pictures of a dog up, among all of the people. To be fair, his dog was super cute.

Impatiently, Flower waited until 5, and then a bit longer as Melody, her ride to the bar, finished something up. "Don't worry," Melody said. "We'll arrive fashionably late." Flower just hoped there was still a seat next to Harvey.

As it turned out, Flower was able to pull a chair up to the end of the table with sit with Harvey on one side and Melody on the other.

"So," Flower said to Harvey, going for broke, "I hear you have a dog?"

"Yeah," Harvey replied with a smile. "He's very loyal. I call him my guard dog." In a matter of moments, Harvey had his phone out and was showing Flower pictures of the cutest pit bull she'd ever seen.

"He's so cute!" Flower said.

Harvey smiled. "Yes he is, but he likes to pretend he keeps the house safe."

Flower laughed. "What a good dog."

"Do you have a dog?" Harvey asked.

"No," Flower replied. "My mom never wanted us to get one growing up."

"That's too bad," Harvey replied. "I don't know what I'd do without Sid."

"Probably have your house broken into," Flower joked.

Harvey laughed. "Absolutely."

For most of the night, Flower managed to be in the same conversation as Harvey and the two of them stayed at the bar after everyone else left. Flower was having too good of a time to think about leaving, and it seemed Harvey was too. Once they were ready to go, Flower was planing on taking the bus home, but Harvey offered her a ride.

Flower had a moment of hesitation telling him where she lived. She did barely know him, after all. Still, they worked at the same place. He wasn't a criminal or anything. She quickly decided to accept his offer and followed him out of the bar. He had a standard black sedan and the inside was clean, although there was black dog hair everywhere. "Sorry about that," Harvey said with a laugh.

"It's all right," Flower said, settling into the passenger seat. "I don't mind."

As she directed him to her house, Flower began to think about whether or not she wanted a good night kiss. It hadn't exactly been a date, but it hadn't been definitely not a date either. After a bit, Harvey parked his car across from Flower's house and looked at her. "This was great. I'm really glad you came," he said.

"Me too," Flower replied, leaning a bit closer.

Harvey leaned toward her a bit. He hesitated. "Is it all right if I kiss you?"

Flower beamed. "Yes," she said. Flower had kissed boys before, but there was something different about Harvey. She liked his kisses much better.

After they were done, Flower smiled at him and got out of the car. "See you Monday," Harvey said.

"See you Monday," Flower replied with a smile. She noticed that Harvey waited until after she got inside her house to drive away. "He's so thoughtful," Flower thought, closing and locking the front door behind her. She walked into the living room smiling.

"Where have you been?" her mom asked.

The smile slid off of Flower's face. "At the happy hour, like I told you."

"You said you would be back late. This is past that."

"I stayed out later than this in college all the time," Flower replied, confused.

Denise took a deep breath. "You're right. I guess I just need to get used to my baby girl growing up."

Flower decided not to tell her mom about Harvey just yet. Besides, they weren't really anything yet. "I'm going to head to my room. Good night, Mom," Flower said.

Over the next few weeks, Harvey and Flower became closer and closer. Flower got to know his dog, Sid, but she still felt a special thrill when he decided to cuddle with her. The first time Sid jumped up on her lap, Harvey apologized and tried to explain that Sid thought he was smaller than he was.

"Don't move him!" Flower said. "He looks so comfortable." She looked down at Sid and smiled. She pet him a little and Sid settled in, sighing in contentment.

Harvey laughed. "He's in doggy heaven."

After awhile, Flower was able to buy a car. She didn't have enough credit to sign for the car loan on her own and it took more convincing than Flower had expected to get her mom to cosign for her.

"You're growing up and leaving me," Denise said, with a tear in her eye.

"You'll always be my mom," Flower reassured her.

Denise took a breath and smiled. Then she signed the papers, and Flower drove herself home from the dealership.

Eventually, Flower decided it was probably time to tell her mom about Harvey. She started by telling Harvey about her mother. "She's a little...possessive, so I'm worried telling her about you will freak her out."

"Hasn't she been wondering where you've been going when you come to see me?" Harvey asked.

"I tell her I'm seeing some friends," Flower said shrugging. "It's just easier."

Harvey nodded slowly. "Well, whenever you think she's ready, I'll be glad to meet her."

Flower smiled and leaned against him. "What would I do without you?" she asked.

"Well, I guess you'd have to find someone else with a dog who liked to cuddle," Harvey teased.

"True and I don't know how I would find someone like that," Flower teased back.

As it turned out, Flower saw a chance to bring up Harvey to her mom the next day. Denise had just been watching a rom com and bemoaning that she was single. She looked at Flower and said, "Don't be like me. I hope you find a good man."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that," Flower said.

"Oh?" Denise asked.

"I've got a boyfriend."

"Really?" Denise's face froze.

Flower nodded carefully. "He's very sweet. And so is his dog."

"Oh, he has a dog," Denise said. Her voice was very quiet.

Flower nodded and waited.

"What's his name?" Denise asked at last.

"Harvey." Flower couldn't help but smile when she said it.

Denise nodded distantly. "So, that's where you've actually been going all this time."

"Well...yeah," Flower admitted.

"So you lied to me about it," Denise said.

"Well, he did start out as a friend," Flower justified.

Denise's face changed and became angry. "So now you're seeing some man named Harvey and you didn't want to tell me about it," she spat.

"Because I knew you'd freak out," Flower replied.

"Freak out? My baby is seeing some man I've never even met." Terrified, Denise turned to face Flower. "You two haven't...done anything, have you?"

"Oh my God, Mom," Flower replied. "Seriously?"

"I know I didn't raise a whore," Denise replied.

Without another word, Flower stood up and went to her room. She closed and locked the door behind her. A few minutes later, Denise knocked on her door. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Packing," Flower spat. She closed her last suitcase and zipped it shut. She left her room and breezed past her mom.

"Where are you going?" Denise yelled. "You are my daughter and you live here!"

"I'm sick of being smothered by you!" Flower yelled. "I understand why Dad left. I'm surprised he stayed with you as long as he did!" Then she pushed past her mom and went outside while her mom was still in shock.

A few minutes later, Flower knocked at Harvey's door.

"Hey!" he said, smiling. Then he took in Flower's bags. "It didn't go well?" he asked.

"She's overwhelming," Flower replied, sighing. "Can I stay with you for a few days?"

"Of course. Come inside." Harvey closed the door behind her. "Do you want to set up in the guest room?"

"Well, I was kind of hoping to stay with you," Flower replied with a little smile.

Harvey smiled back. "I think we can manage that."

It took longer than Flower thought for her mom to start calling her to try to get her to come home. However, once Denise started calling her, she didn't really want to stop. Denise left her voicemails which were hard to understand, but Denise definitely said it was like winter in her house. Flower began turning her phone off for hours at a time. After some careful hints, one day Harvey finally asked her, "When are you going to talk to your mom?"

"Why would I do that?" Flower asked, glancing at her phone to make sure it was off.

"Because you miss her."

Flower shot him a look.

"You do," Harvey replied.

Flower sighed. "I know you're right, but I'm still mad at her."

Harvey laughed. "Well, you can always split your time between us."

"No," Flower shook her head. "The two of you need to meet. Once she sees how great of a guy you are, she'll calm down. I think."

"Has your mom always been like this?" Harvey asked.

"More or less," Flower replied, shrugging. "I keep trying to get her to go to therapy. Maybe this time I'll be able to talk her into it."

Flower set the date for a few days later on a Saturday. They were going to meet for lunch. All Flower had to eat that morning were a few pomegranate seeds. After moving in with Harvey, she had discovered how delicious they could be.

At the lunch, Denise seemed to be in a normal mood when she sat down, although she looked terrible. Flower took this as a good sign anyway. "Mom, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Harvey."

"Hello," Harvey said with a smile.

"Hello," Denise said. "I'm sorry I've made such a fuss about all of this."

Flower said nothing.

"But, Flower, I'm ready to be okay with this. I miss you."

Flower looked at her mom for a moment. "I miss you too."

Denise smiled tentatively and Flower smiled back. The winter, it seemed, was over and springtime was back for Denise. "So, Harvey," Denise said, "tell me about yourself."

Harvey smiled a little. "Well, let me tell you about my dog, Sid."

Flower laughed and sat back. Maybe this would work out after all.

The Story of Persephone

Just a few seeds never hurt anyone. Right?

Salutations, reader. This week, I thought we'd look at a myth we probably all know. The Story of Persephone is the ancient Greeks' way of explaining the seasons. If you want to brush up on the myth, click on the link. If not, continue reading and analyze it with me.

There's one thing I want to point out before we get too far into this. Zeus was Persephone's father. So, when Hades was asking Zeus' permission to marry Persephone, he was abiding by the rules at the time. (We don't need to dwell too much on how all of the gods were related.) What both Zeus and Hades failed to do was talk to Demeter, Persephone's mom. This was probably another cultural norm, but since Zeus didn't spend any time with his daughter (to be fair, he had far, far too many kids to spend time with all of them), that meant that neither Persephone nor Demeter knew about this betrothal. Does that mean it still happened? Either way, when Hades came to claim his bride, he was technically allowed to do so. But only technically. I'm not sure why he thought he could kidnap Persephone and Demeter would just let her go. Or why he thought being so secretive was a good idea in the first place.

Moving on. Demeter, overcome with grief, refused to do her godly duties and make things grow. Apparently, her neglect even made the rivers shrivel up. I understand that she was deeply upset about her daughter being kidnapped. That makes perfect sense. What worries me is that Demeter was willing to kill lots of people because she was upset by causing this famine. I don't really see her as this caring, nurturing god anymore. At least, not to humans. At the same time, she didn't have any other ways to show how upset she was. Simply telling Zeus that it wasn't okay to barter off her daughter to someone else didn't seem to do anything. He had no problem agreeing to the match and leaving Demeter (and Persephone) out of the loop. Demeter was stuck in a tricky position. She chose her daughter over the humans of the earth, but I'm not sure I can blame her for that.

We see that either Persephone got Stockholm syndrome, or Hades was actually a pretty great guy and she fell in love with him. However, this story explicitly tells us that Persephone was tricked into eating the pomegranate seeds. She didn't think it would matter and, of course, Hades wasn't going to tell her otherwise. Hades was trying to leverage the gods' rules to keep his wife in the underworld with him. However, he didn't count on being up against Demeter. He should have known how stubborn and forceful she was, since she's his sister. Sorry, I wasn't going to dwell on how they're all related. Anyway, I think it's a good thing they had quick-witted Hermes there to negotiate the deal, or Persephone could have ended up split in half. Demeter, never one to take back her claims, decided that when Persephone was in the underworld, she wouldn't let anything grow, and we know this time as autumn and winter. ...which leads me to my next question: is the Southern Hemisphere just opposite of what Demeter does, or is Persephone the goddess of autumn instead of spring in the Southern Hemisphere?

The moral of this story is: if you want to marry someone, talk it out with both of their parents. And that person. Alternatively, if you're going to kidnap someone and have them fall in love with you, be extra tricky so they don't get stolen back. Poor Persephone is basically a piece of treasure and not a god in this story.

Did you like that analysis? Have another point I missed? Would you like me to talk about a different story? Comment below!

Cindy-Ella

Hello again. Last week, I analyzed Cinderella. This week, I'm writing a modern version of the fairy tale.

Not every girl loses her shoe to gain a prince.

Ella hated working mornings at Royal Latte. The tips were better in the morning, but she was always tired when she came in and the customers were usually grumpy before they got their coffee. Or lattes. Or special creations that you had better get right. This morning, she had barely made it through the barrage and now she was cleaning up the little things that got out of order during the rush while Kristen, her coworker, took orders from the last few people.

"Rough night?" Kristen asked her when the last commuter had left with his coffee.

"How did you know?" Ella asked.

"Wrong apron," Kristen said, nodding at Ella.

Ella looked down and sighed. Her name tag proudly read, "Cindy". It wasn't the first time Ella had grabbed the wrong apron and it probably wouldn't be the last. "I was up too late," Ella said.

"Hanging out with the boy?" Kristen asked.

Ella pursed her lips and began to wash the blender.

"Is he done with school yet?" Kristen continued. "Or is he still in college?"

"We broke up, okay?" Ella asked.

"Oh," Kristen replied. "I'm sorry."

Ella sighed and set the blender down to dry. "He was an asshole anyway. I'm probably better off."

"So, how's your art going?" Kristen asked, rapidly changing the subject.

Ella smiled. "Really well. I've got a few pieces going up at a gallery this weekend, actually."

"Your first big break!" Kristen cheered. "When and where? I need to be there."

Ella laughed a little. "It's at the Vernon Gallery this Friday. The show opens at 7."

Kristen pulled out her phone and put that in her calendar. "I'll be there, but I'll be late."

Just then, the door opened and a man walked in holding a few brightly colored papers. He looked more tired than Ella. "Good morning, ladies," he said.

"Good morning," Ella replied professionally.

"Is there a community bulletin board here?"

"Of course." Ella pointed it out.

"Thanks," he said, shuffling over.

"So, the Vernon gallery?" Kristen asked. "That's downtown, right?"

"Sure is," the man replied. "You both should come by this Friday. My band is playing."

"Oh?" Kristen asked, looking quickly at Ella.

"Yeah," he replied. "My band is called Charming. We're a Prince tribute band. I'm the singer."

"I knew there was going to be music there, but I didn't know it would be Prince," Ella replied. "That's cool."

"You know about it already?" the man asked.

"She's one of the featured artists," Kristen bragged.

"Really?" The man looked at her apron. "Then I'll keep an eye out for you, Cindy." He waved and left the shop.

"Why didn't you correct him?" Kristen asked Ella.

Ella shrugged. "He was already leaving and what does it matter? I probably won't even see him at the gallery. He'll be busy singing and I'll be busy schmoozing and telling people what my art means."

"What does it mean?" Kristen asked.

"Well, a lot of the paintings were about Jack and me so... Prince is the perfect music to go with it."

Kristen laughed. "Now I have to see this stuff! Oh, but are you okay to talk about it?"

Ella shrugged sadly. "I guess I'll have to be by Friday."

"Just don't drink too much," Kristen advised.

Ella laughed. "I'll try not to. So, what have you been up to?"

Kristen shrugged. "Pondering existence and why I'm working as a barista with a bachelor's degree."

"Aren't we all?" Ella replied. "Of course, since you're working on your master's full time, it's not like you could have a standard office job."

"I'm slowly killing myself instead," Kirsten replied nonchalantly.

Ella was about to ask her something else when another customer came in with an order for what must have been her whole office and the two baristas were kept busy for awhile.

-

Ella tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. It wasn't obvious that the subject of the paintings was anyone in particular, let alone her and Jack, but they were definitely intimate. She knew people would ask her who the guy was. She really didn't want to have to tell them that they'd broken up. Ella glanced over at the band setting up and saw the singer was looking at her. He smiled and waved. She smiled back and gave him a little wave as well. He started to walk over, but the guitarist grabbed his arm and pulled him back. They started their mic checks. From where Ella was standing, they were definitely loud enough.

The gallery owner bustled over to Ella and smiled. "All ready?" he asked.

"Sure," Ella said. She was about to ask if there were things she was supposed to say to the crowd, but the man replied, "Great!" and bustled away to the next artist.

It wasn't long after that when the doors opened and people started coming in. "We are Charming, a Prince tribute band," the singer announced. "1, 2, 3, 4." The band started playing Raspberry Beret.

"That'll set the tone for the evening," Ella thought wryly. Still, they were good and it was nice to have something to listen to when people were talking to other artists. Soon enough, though, those people moved on to her and Ella introduced herself as the artist of her pieces. She was surprised that she got more questions about her technique than the subjects of the paintings, but maybe she shouldn't have been. It was fairly abstract, after all.

Kristen and her boyfriend, Hank, came by close to the end of the show and it was nice to talk to people she knew for a bit, even if Kristen did make her blush with her comments about the paintings. "Ella, I never knew you were like that," Kristen said of one painting in particular.

Blushing furiously, Ella replied, "It's just a painting, Kristen. It's not me."

"I know. I'm just teasing," Kristen replied with a smile.

Ella shook her head and looked across the crowd, gauging the size. She had to work the morning shift again tomorrow and she couldn't stay up too late so she was hoping people would wander out soon. As she looked across the crowd, she saw Jack. Ella felt her stomach fall to the floor and she took a step backwards.

"Are you okay?" Kristen asked. When Ella didn't respond, she followed her gaze. "Oh shit," Kristen said. "Ella."

Ella slowly looked away from Jack and toward Kristen.

"Do you want me to get rid of him?" Kristen asked.

"I'm not sure you can," Ella replied.

"Oh please. I'm the charm and he's the muscle," Kristen said, jerking her thumb at her boyfriend.

"Sure," Hank replied.

"No," Ella said. "I need to face him eventually."

"But now?" Kristen asked.

Ella took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Then there was no more time to talk because Jack was there.

"Hey," Jack said. "You look great."

"Thanks," Ella said flatly. She waited.

"Is that us?" Jack asked, looking at the paintings.

"No," Ella replied.

"It kind of looks like us," Jack said, looking at them again. "I mean, it's hard to tell what it is, but I think that's us."

"She said it wasn't," Kristen stepped in.

"And who are you?" Jack asked.

"Her friend," Kristen replied. "How about you tell her what you came to tell her, and then leave?"

"No need to get so aggressive," Jack said. "Ella knows I still love her, right Ella?"

Ella's lips were compressed into a line. She shook her head.

"Oh, come on, baby. I came here to take you back."

"No," Ella replied.

"No?" Jack asked. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"No," Ella said, looking at him for the first time. "I don't want to be with you any more. I'm done. If that's all you came to say, please leave."

Jack looked at her, then Kristen, and then Hank who was looming off to the side. "Fine," Jack said. "Geeze." Then he walked away.

"The gallery will be closing in five minutes," the owner said from the microphone. "But first, let's give all of our artists a hand, huh? Including Charming! What a great band!"

The audience clapped and cheered.

"Do you want to go?" Kristen asked Ella.

Ella shook her head. Then she looked up and blinked rapidly a few times. "No," she said, in a voice that was almost normal. "No, I need to stay until everyone else leaves." She looked at Kristen. "I'll be fine."

Kristen looked at her for a moment. "I can stay," Kristen offered.

Ella shook her head. "It's fine. I'll see you at work."

"Okay," Kristen said. "You call me if you need anything."

Ella smiled. "All right. Good night, Kristen."

"Good night," Kristen replied. She hugged Ella. Then she and Hank walked away.

After the gallery closed, the owner came bustling over to all of the artists to tell them what a smashing success this was. "Same time next week?" he asked Ella.

"What?" Ella asked.

"You've got more paintings, right?"

"These were the best ones," Ella said.

The owner waved away her objections. "If you want to add to them, I'll be willing to look at more of your work. If not, we'll just show these again. They were turning people away at the door. Do you want to do this again next week?"

"Yes," Ella said, realizing what was happening. "Yes, that's great."

"Excellent," the owner replied, beaming. "Yes, I think we'll keep the band, too. Perfect for this sort of art." He bustled away before Ella could say anything else. Still, with everything that happened that night, she drove home smiling.

-

The following Tuesday morning, Kirsten and Ella were working the morning shift at Royal Latte. Ella had taken a drunk phone call from Jack that past Saturday night and she was telling Kristen about it.

"He said he wanted you back?" Kristen asked.

Ella nodded. "He was sobbing. I know he was drunk, but it was hard not to believe him."

"You know he's a snake."

"That's the worst part. I do know, but we spent two and a half years together. Why did it take me so long to figure that out?"

"And you want to justify that time by making him seem like a better person," Kristen replied.

Ella sighed. "A little."

"It's okay to be wrong about people," Kristen told her. Just then, the door opened.

"Hey, I didn't get a chance to say it on Friday, but you've got some real talent." It was the lead singer from Charming. He smiled and looked at Ella's apron. "Ella?"

Ella laughed. "I had the wrong apron on before."

"I bet you've just got two names," the man said. "Cindy-Ella."

"And what is your name?" Kristen asked.

"Oh. I'm sorry. My name is Jason." He held out his hand for Ella to shake.

"Nice to meet you," Ella replied, shaking his hand.

"So, are you back in the gallery next week?" he asked Ella.

"Yup," Ella replied with a smile. "The owner likes my work."

"As he should. The passion on the canvas is incredible. Where did you get your inspiration?"

Ella's mind went blank. She certainly wasn't going to tell this man that her inspiration, the focus of all of her passion, was a snake of a man who she wanted nothing to do with. "Oh. Um."

"Prince songs, of course," Kirsten joked.

Jason laughed. "Of course. Well, I hope we inspired you to paint some more. Is it all right if I put up another flyer on the bulletin board?"

"Sure," Ella said.

"Thanks," Jason replied. "You're a gem, Cindy-Ella."

"Are you going to call me that?" Ella asked.

"Probably," Jason said, looking back at her. "Is that all right?"

Ella considered. "I suppose so. Should I call you Prince, then?"

"Nah, too confusing," Jason replied.

"It would have to be Prince Charming, then," Kristen replied with a smirk.

"Now that I am not," Jason replied. "Let's just stick with Jason for now."

"Okay, Jason," Ella replied.

Jason smiled and finished putting up his flyer. "See you Friday, Cindy-Ella."

As soon as he left, Kristen turned to Ella. "So? Is he your new muse?"

"What do you mean?" Ella asked.

"That was a lot of flirting," Kristen pointed out.

Ella smiled and shrugged. "I'm single now. I can flirt all I want."

"Damn right," Kirsten replied. "Good for you! Maybe you'll have to stick around after the show Friday."

"I work Saturday morning again," Ella replied.

"Switch with someone," Kirsten said.

"No," Ella told her, suddenly fearful. "No. I don't want to go out with him."

"Because Jack started out charming too?" Kristen asked.

"Why do you know me so well?" Ella asked.

"Because I've known you forever and I'm a genius," Kristen replied, sticking out her tongue. "But, to get back to Jason, don't worry about it. Just because you like to flirt with him doesn't mean it needs to go further if you don't want it to."

"I guess," Ella replied.

-

That Friday, the gallery wasn't as full as it had been. On his break, Jason came over to find Ella.

"Hey, Cindy-Ella," he greeted her. "How's the crowd for you tonight?"

"Not too bad," Ella replied with a smile, sliding her foot back into her shoe. She had been about to kick off her heels, but she wasn't going to do that now. "There's not as many as there were last week, though."

"I know. Last week's crowd was ready to party. This week, well, they need a bit more encouragement."

"Good thing we've got a great band," Ella replied.

"To go with the great art," Jason shot back.

Ella laughed and pulled her hair away from her face.

"Hey," Jason said, grabbing her hand. "You've been painting. Anything that made it here?"

"Oh no," Ella replied, taking her hand back a little reluctantly. "No, I can't make anything that quickly."

"That's fair," Jason replied. "I can't imagine how long this takes."

"Awhile," Ella replied, shrugging. "How long does it take to learn a new song?"

"You mean for me or for the guitarist?" Jason joked. "We're actually starting to expand a bit. We've written some songs and a few of them sound enough like Prince that we can sort of sneak them in and no one really notices."

"That's awesome," Ella said. "Are you playing any of them here?"

"Nah," Jason said. "We asked and the owner said no. We're working on getting more shows in bars, though. They're not so picky there."

"I could imagine that," Ella replied.

Jason looked over to his band. "Oh, I've got to go, but it was nice to talk to you again."

"You too," Ella said, smiling. She watched Jason walk away. Then someone grabbed her arm. Ella whipped around.

"Who was that?" Jack asked.

"What does it matter?" Ella asked, jerking her arm out of his grip.

"Of course it matters. I love you."

"You don't own me," Ella snapped. She took a breath. "Jack. Go home. Stop trying to talk to me. I'm done."

"What do you mean done?" Jack asked.

"Exactly that." Ella looked around. Too many people were looking at them. "Now go home."

Jack looked around and Ella followed his gaze to the band. Jason was staring at Ella and Jack.

"Fine," Jack snapped. He turned on his heel and walked out. After a flurry of conversation in the band, Charming started playing Purple Rain, but Ella wasn't sure if Jason meant it for Jack or her.

-

The days slid by sluggishly. Kristen was getting to the end of her master's program and Ella was already dreading the last day they'd work together. Ella let her emotions out in her art. She finally got Jack to leave her alone, but she hadn't heard from Jason since the night at the gallery.

Ella started painting shoes. Shoes jumbled together with reds and bright, passionate colors. Shoes walking away with sad blues. She painted the heels that she hated in disarray and the strappy sandals she loved walking or dancing. She painted Jack's shoes torn to shreds. She painted Jason's shoes, although she didn't fully remember them. She put them on a pedestal and that seemed about right. She sent her paintings to the gallery, but the shows weren't as great. They now hired a different band for their gallery openings. Still, the money was good.

Eventually, Ella let Kristen talk her into going out one night. Ella didn't have to work the next morning, for a change. Kirsten was very excited about a bar she'd discovered and the bands that played there. Ella got herself ready to go out, but her heart wasn't really in it. Kristen came and picked her up. "We've got to get you out more," she said.

"I guess," Ella replied.

"No, we do," Kristen replied. "Hank needs someone else to talk to when we go to bars anyway."

"Really," Ella stated, looking at Hank.

Hank shrugged and laughed.

The bar Kristen took them to was crowded and the band was loud, with lights from the stage moving all over the bar. "I'll go get us drinks," Kristen yelled, walking to the bar.

Ella looked at Hank. They both shrugged and headed toward one of the tall tables near the dance floor.

"What song is this?" Ella asked Hank.

Hank listened for a moment. "I don't know," he replied. "It sounds familiar."

"It sounds like Prince," Ella replied. Then she put it together. Her eyes shot to the stage and, sure enough, Jason was up there singing his heart out. Ella just stood there staring until the song ended. Then she snapped out of it and started clapping and cheering. The light panned over her and Ella swore her eyes met Jason's. He looked as shocked as she did. Then, he looked away and started talking to his band.

Ella tried to shake it off. Kirsten came over to their table with drinks. "How's the band?" she asked innocently.

"You brat," Ella replied.

"You're welcome." Kristen stuck her tongue out.

"We'd like to do another original song for you before our break," Jason said. The crowd cheered. "It's called Cindy-Ella."

Ella was floored. He wrote a song about her? It was hard to hear all of the lyrics, but it sounded like their story. A guy and a girl met and liked each other, but there was an old boyfriend so the guy backed off. It was better not to tempt them both, even if he didn't want to leave her to him. After that song, the band went for a break and Ella walked to the stage, absentmindedly pushing her way through the other fans.

"You couldn't just come ask me?" she asked Jason.

"I was a little worried about the other guy."

"Why? We broke up." Ella arched her eyebrow.

"Oh. It's just I saw something like this happen to my friend and I didn't want to get mixed up in anything if you were taken."

Ella shook her head. "If we're going to have anything, which I'm still not sure about, let's start by talking about these things."

Jason smiled. "Good call. Although, this does make a better song."

"And better art, I guess," Ella allowed. "Still. If you do that again, I might not kiss you again."

"Oh?" Jason asked. "We've never kissed."

"Not yet," Ella allowed. She smiled and leaned in. Jason leaned in to meet her and they kissed on the side of the stage while the fans cheered.