Feb. 8th, 2019

hannah: (Reference - fooish_icons)
I recently found a book that'd I'd been trying to track down on-and-off for some months now - Partners in Grime, something that needed the search string "book three kids principal office dumpster" for the internet to give it up. It was something where I knew I didn't hallucinate it wildly and could conceivably find if I looked in just the right way, especially since I remembered enough details to have a decent shot. It's not like that one short story I read in second or third grade about tigers singing in the jungle at night about how they were peaceful creatures and didn't harm others anymore, which is a more difficult question.

That said, there's something I sort of hallucinated which might or might not be real. A couple of nights ago, I had a deeply vivid dream - one of those third-person narratives where the actions unfold without the dreamer's input or agency, something with genuine plot. It was a small magical being, a pixie or sprite or fairy, decided he wanted to become human. He'd have to leave everything he knew behind: the marsh, the bogs, the magic trees. He did so, wandering out of the forest as a young human boy, clothed in rags and without any sort of memory. He could talk and act like a human, but inside he was still something transformed. Just human enough to be accepted as one of them.

What separated this from other stories like it that I've encountered before is that his regret was almost nonexistent. He came back to the marsh years later to look at a place that he couldn't ever return to, because like all good fairy tales it was a one-way trip. And he just looked at it wistfully, then waved good-bye and walked away again. Because he'd made his choice and was happy with his life.

I can't remember if I've read anything of this sort of transformation that included that kind of character note at the end. I'm sure it exists and I just don't know, or I've just forgotten where it came from. It's bugging me because I really liked that note of maturity and growth, and the contentment and happiness with the choice made long ago. And if it does exist, I'd like to not have to go to the trouble of writing it in order to read it.

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hannah

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