Femme Fairytales by Monroe Wildrose

Author:Monroe Wildrose [Teapots and Stolen Souls Publishing]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Teapots and Stolen Souls Publishing
Published: 2023-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

“I love the smell of the earth after fresh rain. Don’t you?” Celia commented as they chatted in Maribel’s sitting room, sorting through their stash of old and new ribbons.

“You too?” Maribel’s mother asked, poking her head in. “Maybe I’m the mad one here….” She proceeded to stroll past the open door.

Celia looked to Maribel, confused.

“I said the same thing this morning, but she swears it didn’t rain last night….” And it was odd, because there had been no mud, no signs of rain come morning, but Maribel had heard it herself as she’d fallen asleep, and that fresh dewy smell had enlivened her as she rose.

Maribel stacked her ribbon by color and length. Almost half her collection was green; maybe she ought to try more colors after all.

“And then I had the wildest dream….” Celia continued minutes later, massaging her shoulder. “I was crossing under a bridge, and an old beggar asked me for help with carrying something.”

Stilling, Maribel listened. The dream was eerie, for she too had had a dream like that the night before.

Celia wrapped a long cream ribbon around her hand. “So, I helped the poor man, but gosh his bag was heavy! The strap of the bag dug into my shoulder. I know it was just a dream, but it felt so real.” She rubbed her shoulder again.

Wide-eyed, Maribel stared at her. That had almost exactly been her same dream. She’d woken with a sore shoulder; it still ached. “That’s mad… I … had a dream like that too.”

“Really?” Celia narrowed her eyes.

“Yes, but Mother said it was just my mattress.” Her father’s business had been doing poorly lately, and they couldn’t afford to replace the lumpy mattress anytime soon.

Brushing off the bizarre coincidence, Celia smiled. “Too weird.”

As Maribel went to bed that night, she felt around her mattress. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it wasn’t like it was made of rocks. Luckily, the soreness in her shoulder had eased around midday, and she was ready to put the odd shared dream behind her.

After blowing out her candle, she climbed under her quilt, ready for sleep to claim her. Rain sang her to sleep for the second night.

Maribel blinked. She stood in the middle of a busy cobblestone lane. “What the…” How had she gotten there? The midday sun beat down on her, the breeze nonexistent.

She glanced around, trying to piece it together. What did she even remember last? She ought to remember walking somewhere… Though no pain remained in her shoulder, she rubbed it. The dream. Could this be another dream? It was so vivid, so real, but her dream the previous night had also started abruptly.

Shoes clicked on the cobblestone, and mumbles of passersby surrounded her, though no one paid her any attention.

Maribel stopped a passing man. “Sir, uh, what day is it?”

“Tuesday, miss.” He gave her a single nod and continued walking.

She bit her lip. Tuesday? If her recollection was correct, she’d gone to bed Tuesday night, so this was perhaps

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