Magic Treehouse

Ariel copes with her absent father.

Ariel sat on her magic pillow, legs crossed, and waited for her mother. In the quiet of distant rumbling she raised first her left hand and then her right; and, as if by magic, luminescent orbs of pinks and purples materialized, each floating as bubbles held aloft, it seemed, by nothing more than the belief of a young girl's heart.

"Daddy, come see my magic treehouse." Ariel smiled as if John were looking with admiration over her delicate shoulder. "Do you see the Bucklefinkels? They live in the pink house. And look. Shhhhhhh, be very quiet, the Dinkelberries are sleeping in the purple house and believe me, we don't want to wake them." Ariel giggled and her hands moved quickly as the magic treehouse grew and changed with her every motion.

"Ariel," called Cait, "who are you talking to?"

"Daddy," responded Ariel with a wave of her hair and a roll of her eyes as if the question was silly as only adults can be silly. "Who else would it be?"

"Honey, we don't have time for games. Are you packed?"

Ariel put her hands on her hips and the orbs faded. "Like a purple Dinkelberry."

Cait smiled. Dinkelberries. Daughter and father, one on lap and one weaving stories from thin air. "Come here Sweetie. Show me those Dinkleberries."

Ariel skipped over to her mother coming to a jump stop right in front of her. She clapped her hands quick as lightning and before misty eyes glowed colors bright. And, as if on stage, Ariel stood straight and tall and performed the magic of making memories as precious as royal jewels, or so would be said in thirty years hence.

Reviews

[AutumnStorm]

Bucklefinkles and Dinkleberries, :-), magic treehouses and magic pillows, so rich a fantasy said as though the heretofore had not shown it, but these chapters seen from the eyes of a child would be perhaps the greatest stretch for most. The majority forget partially or completely, not their memories, but what it felt like, the joy and wonder with which the world is approached, it is a very rare thing in literature for the portrayal of a child to ring this true, to be so natural. Images have not been mentioned, my bad (okay, that too cool expression just doesn't suit me :-D), but here are two of the most enchanting examples of what would not have been without the image created first to inspire it. Captivating and adorable creating reflecting rolo smiles. :-)