A Friend in Need, Indeed (standard:humor, 1308 words)
Author: scarlettorocker	Added: Mar 19 2004	Views/Reads: 3355/2195	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A wee girl's imaginary pal

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

mother managed a grimace. Now the village really would take them for a 
family of half-wits. After all, who on Earth were they talking about? 
The mention of the little girl's imaginary friend would have invoked 
the wrath of Maire and the grown-ups knew it. They left the shop under 
a cloud of humiliation. Oh well, at least the adults claimed the 
remainder of the day as their own. That man from the bathroom shop was 
coming round later to smack us, claimed Maire's mother, so she'd best 
be in bed. Maire and Toad hurried up the wooden hill, hiding in their 
room with a supply of chocolate biscuits and a bottle of lemonade. 

Years passed, and Maire became a big sister to many. Not for them the
delights of imaginary friends, when they could pull each other's hair 
out. Sometimes I wonder if it is such a bad deal to be an only child, 
for Maire was loved exclusively for a while. In my opinion, she has 
steered her ship with nautical precision through lapping oceans. Some 
say that she is as cold and unfathomable as the waters that she 
navigates and that she ought to come in to dock from time to time and 
climb across the rocks, looking for crabs as she did as a child. Maybe 
then she would have to ask for help to get down from the craggier 
peaks. Some wonder if she's got any real rocks for friends, or if she 
swims back out to sea again if anyone gets in too deep. Oh well, she 
must be happy, they say. She's always up to something ingenious and she 
obviously likes her own company, given the number of times she's been 
spotted in wild conversation with herself. But she has got a friend who 
she confides in. One who believes in her dreams and accepts her wayward 
existence for what it is. Don't scoff unless you know her as well as I 
do. I should know, for I've been her companion through thick and thin. 
I've told her tales of my magical land of Fife. I've raided the fridge 
on her behalf on midnight feast frenzies. I've played  practical jokes 
on her friends and planted stink bombs in the school toilets. And I've 
taken the blame on numerous occasions, especially if something delicate 
has gone crack in a china shop. 


Tweet