His PrincessA Story by ZoyaThe first happy bloom of flowers under
the sky that smells of spring ~ that first soar of a growing nestle, the
time it spreads its wings ~ that
first drop of heavenly water and the farmer begins to sing ~ an excited, young damsel who has just been
offered a ring Such was the joy
that swelled inside him. He could not have felt any better. His gleaming,
crystal clear face radiated a smile as wide as Mr.Hickinbottom, his neighbour,
and it could well be estimated from his expression that every word that’d fall
from his mouth would be akin to Mr.Hickinbottom’s ever-so-happy
dog’s joyous barks; if only it could speak.
He stood outside the airport, waiting; waiting for his princess. As each
minute ended, being thrown into nothingness, never to return, his hopes
straightaway clung onto the next one. He was dying to catch a glimpse of her,
dying to see how much his princess had transformed. Is she just as beautiful as she was back then? Or has she grown more
beautiful? Is her voice just as mellifluous as it was? What about her hair? Is it still a perfect shade of lemon yellow? Or has it, by any chance,
changed colour? Are her eyes still as big and shiny as- “BOO!” “Ahhhhhhh!” “Goodness me, Daddy, that was
nearly five inches above the ground! You broke your own record!” “You scared the hell out of me,
Darla! Whew.” He replied, panting. “Oh Daddy...” Before he knew it, he
was pulled in for a big, teddy bear hug. “I missed you.” “I missed you, too, Princess.” He said,
his smile the broadest now, trying hard to stop those tears from rushing out. He couldn't have welcomed his Princess with
those nasty, salty drops, could he? “Look at you! What a fine young
woman you’ve turned out to be; just like your Mom.” He exclaimed, letting go of
her. Darla beamed. “How’s Mom? And Peggy?” “Fit and fine. They’re eagerly
waiting for you at home.” “And what about Mr.Hickinbottom? Do
you still argue with him often?” She asked curiously. “He’s fat and fine, as ever. I’m getting better in that regard, you know;
my patience level is at an all time high.
But when that bloody ol’ chap makes his dog pee on the boundaries of my
house, I can control no more.” He retorted, picking up her luggage. Darla chuckled. “I bet you have loads to tell about
your college life! Let us leave that for the long car ride, shall we? We gotta get goin’ now or
your mom’s going to bombard my phone with endless calls.” He said. They got into the car and with his
enthusiastic shout of “Let’s go!”, they set off. He went smiling all the way,
smiling over the fact that his ears would have to take in a lot of blabber for the next fortnight. © 2019 ZoyaAuthor's Note
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Added on March 6, 2018Last Updated on December 25, 2019 Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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