Merry Wee

To my followers, this might be a little out of the usual tech and work topics, but I’m going to give a go at writing more freely, to try out something different whenever I feel like it.

Merry Wee climbed up a tree. It should be easy, climbing a tree, for that was all they used to do in their childhood. Merry Wee, nimble as she, made her way to the top. One hand on a branch, Merry Wee reached with the other into the cumulus nimbus, feeling the dew on her hands. She closed her eyes, promising herself not to turn back.

The branches were shorter as she scaled the tree. The trunk got bulbous, with needles growing out of them, like a cactus. She pulled on a needle. It was sturdy. Sturdy enough for little Merry Wee. She climbed up with glee. The tree was oddly tidy. Merry Wee was always one to let the trash and marks of nature be. Emerging from the nimbostratus, Merry Wee reached into her pocket for her key. She blew on the button-like key and took a step forward. Merry Wee was home.

Crumbs on the table. Mud on the sparkly floor. Someone was here. Who could it be? Merry Wee never had guests. No one knew where was the home of tiny Merry Wee.

The muddy footsteps were teeny-weeny. Not human, not of a bee. Merry Wee stooped down to see. A petite set of marks that resemble the underside of a fishing boot. Merry Wee followed the muddy trail into the kitchen.

A short and stout bear-like figure stood at the stove, donning a chef’s hat, whistling a puzzling tune. Merry Wee’s gaze set itself on the footwear the creature was wearing. Dainty fishing boots covered in mud.

“Howdy dowdy, want some fishy tea?”, bellowed the creature.

“Why not,” thought Merry Wee aloud, “do pour some for me.”

“A little pippity dippity, and a dash of my favorite crickety,” sang the creature.

It brought a set of the brew to the table, serving a cup to Merry Wee.

They sipped their fishy tea. The table began to spin. Up and down the chairs went, in angles of complicated geometry. The pair sipped and munched on crickets, until they ran out of tea. The table stopped its spinning, the chairs came to a halt. Merry Wee felt dizzy, but all she wanted was more tea.

“More, more,” squealed Merry Wee, “oh how fun that was for me.”

The creature belched with laughter, and bent over to serve Merry Wee more fishy tea. “Have as much as you like my dear, I’ve made lots for us, Merry Wee.”

“Forty fishes I had to net and drag up here for this. Forty fishes from the cloudy sea.”

Merry Wee clinked her cup of tea with the creature, and again, they started spinning. They spun and spun till the table creaked, its base unscrewing itself from the tree.