_{maybe it was yesterday or even last year,}

I don't really remember,
and I suppose it doesn't really matter anymore. Maybe it was tomorrow - maybe it never really happened at all...

What I can tell you is:

once there was a beautiful young (at heart) princess who lived in a land where beautiful young (at heart, you know..) princesses were not too common. Most of the other beautiful young princesses had turned into wicked stepmothers by staring too long into The Magic Mirror.

"Mirror, oh Mirror," they would say, " who is the fairest princess of them all?" And like most wicked stepmothers they were only pleased with themselves and believed Snow White was dead.

Snow White was not dead. She had fallen into The Mirror with Alice.

Humpty Dumpty, who was an egg before he was a rabbit, said "My, my! I shall be too late!" And then he fell off the wall and into a hole. I guess Snow White is on her own.

These are other stories now, and no longer part of this story. Still, it is important to remember that it was not always this way. Once upon a time there was only one story. Now there are many stories. Let me tell you one so you can go to bed and dream...

Once upon a time, it's that same time I was telling you about earlier, there lived a beautiful young princess. She was very beautiful indeed

at least when this story began she was. How she'll be at the end, well that's not important right now. Why are you so concerned with endings anyway? Now you are not listening anymore! You're too busy trying to guess at the end, and I have hardly began this thing! Now you really should listen because that is exactly what the beautiful young princess forgot to do. So did the prince for that matter. But now I am getting ahead of myself.

Can I tell this story now? Well it has to be told sometime. What else is a story good for? So let us begin... Listen...

Once upon a time...

Surely you must know that part by now. Let's move on...

Once, in a land far away or maybe just over there, lived a King who had seven beautiful daughters, each with their own unique charms and each charm as wonderful as the other. Their father, The King, called the youngest princess by the name of Sunday. Sunday, of course, was not her real name, so she called back on Monday and left a message on his answering machine. Still, The King called her Sunday, and he called her that all seven days, which maybe made her a little week.

Yes, I know that is a weak joke. It was a pun - which they say is the lowest form of humor - except of course a pun told by a midget. Actually it could have been a double entendre which is like a pun except harder to spell? Speaking of which, I think I am under a spell. Which spelled the witch spell like who do the voodoo that you do. Perhaps it's all this time I have had - maybe I am lost in a daze like the calendar. Now I truly am speaking in tongues. I'm not even sure I can recall her real name anymore, so I guess I've have to call her another day too - perhaps Sunday. Today is Wednesday, what some call hump day. Everyday is hump day if you are a camel. I have deserted the story, which is why I brought the camel in.

Back to Sunday... or whoever she was... afterall, a rose is a rose by any other name, right? I suppose that is what her father meant. Afterall, he had many names too.

Every day Sunday liked to play with her most favorite toy of all: a beautiful golden ball. She loved her ball more than anything in the world, and it truly was a wonderful ball. Her favorite game was to throw the ball into the air and catch it when it fell. When she was younger she could throw the ball high into the air, and almost always managed to catch it too! Fun, isn't it!?

Writing ©1998 Bob Rehor