Pixie Dust and Pratfalls

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

All you need is faith and trust.

And a little bit of pixie dust.

Think of the happiest things.

It’s the same as having wings.

Until it isn’t.

Yes, like Britney Spears, I did it again. I fell from grace. Oops.

Seconds before I had skipped as happy as a cloud across the garage floor and leapt into the air like a gazelle. The plan was to land on some spilled dried macaroni pasta and make a deliciously satisfying crunch.

I jumped and my happy thoughts and pixie dust saw my feet rising of the floor, past my head and up into the sky. There was a moment when airbourne, that I thought I was flying.

And then I realised the opposite was true and in fact I wasn’t.

That’s when the pixie dust failed.

My initial landing would have won me 10 points on the gymnastic mat. It was the weight of my ego-inflated noggin that did me in.

Gravity is not something to be denied by a mere mortal such as I. My head hit the immovable force that is the planet Earth.

Tweety birds and sarcastic Tinkerbells flew around my eyes in dizzying circles.

Then I heard the laughing. The guffawing. The snickering.

After ensuring I was in fact still alive, my son and spouse were doubled over weeping.

I think in future I shall buy bubble-wrap and jump on it in private.

Published by

victoriabruce

I write because I have to. It is a compulsion. I do it to vent, to laugh and to remember. I blog because it has been so long since I had to write with a pen that my hand would go into cramp if I tried to write a journal.

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