A Little Wooden Puppet

What makes a fairy tale a fairy tale? A little winged lady has never whispered a story into my ear, yet I’ve heard many fairy tales. It all seems to revolve around a single setup: tragedy followed by desire and true love or other happy endings. I’ve had my tragedy. I’ve had many tragedies. Where’s my fairytale? Where’s my prince or godmother? How many people go on believing that a Disney movie storyline could be their life, go on waiting for their prince? Maybe I’m just a wooden puppet, dreaming of being real, sitting on my little shelf, watching the puppet next door become a real boy. The worst part?Wooden puppets can’t cry.

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