About a week ago I was in Norway siting in a van bored out of my mind. Not only was I mildly depressed because my trip to see my boyfriend was quickly coming to an end, but also on top of that there was no wifi. So I sat in the van until I told my boyfriend that I would re-read a book I had already read twice in two months. He (rightfully) told me I was being ridiculous and I should write something instead.
Immediately I remembered these pictures on my computer when I was young and Windows 7 was still impressive, and I remember how frustrated I was because these pictures inspired something literary in me, but I wasn’t good enough at writing to capture how they made me feel, and I wasn’t skilled enough to write the background that I felt these pictures deserved. So I put them in the back of my mind for grown-up me to contend with. And now that I am a grown-up, I am contending with them.
Monsters of all kinds went to capital of Arfil to celebrate the birth of The King’s son.
The short and the tall, the young and the old, the wealthy and the poor. And one such wealthy monster was Aravan.
Aravan and his caravan advanced at a steady pace. His small servants with bright yellow hoods and jackets that covered their green, purple, and pink skin almost entirely went on foot in the front.
His brother rode behind them on his favorite long-legged beetle, whose body was a luscious green, and who had bright red high-heeled booties on each of his six feet.
And behind them all was Aravan.
Aravan was a giant monster with a large belly protruding from his luxury gray coat. His skin was a delicate sky blue, and his lips, freshly painted red, were curved upward in a satisfied smile.
He was in Matrishka now, where the ground is a pastel purple, pink, and blue patchwork quilt, and where the white trees grow white leaves that look like giant ice-cream bowls.
Aravan, riding atop his purple turtle, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Matrishka was only five cities away from Arfil. Five cities from now he would be united with even more monsters, all celebrating the birth of a new life.
He would see friends he hadn’t talked to in years, he would meet new monsters and make new acquaintances. And maybe five cities from now, he would find a wife. Someone kind and faithful, beautiful on the inside and modest on the outside.
Aravan’s green eyes softened and his brother tightened the red reign on his beetle, and the caravan went forward.
To many things, and to Arfil.