Tickling Butterflies is an epic fantasy, containing 128 fairy tales that together create one huge story.
Here’s the story so far. The story continues:
The Magic of Earth
(Containing two inspirational stories about the magic of planet Earth.)
The old man wrote heatedly throughout the entire night.
Bubbles upon bubbles filled the café, until King John the Cute could no longer see the old man inside it. Bubbles passed through the walls of the café harmlessly, and as long as they did, King John the Cute knew the old man was still writing.
The sun rose on the planet Earth when the old man emerged from the café, notes in hand.
“I wrote it!” he exclaimed. “What an experience!”
King John the Cute offered his hand to look at the story the old man had written.
“There is something you must know,” said the old man while King John the Cute began to read the story. “If you had come to me only a few years ago, when I was a younger man, I would never have been able to write so well so quickly. Something in me had changed.”
King John the Cute looked at the old man. “Then the Fates have brought me to you at the right time. What change do you speak of?”
“Once upon a time, I looked at writing as magic, which it is. Writing wasn’t putting down words on a page or creating carefully constructed sentences. Writing was waiting for the inspiration to come and for a moment on the page to appear completely magical, better than anything I could have written. Ever since I could remember, there was this magical element to my writing, and I loved it.
“But since I did not control this magic, and since it did not come often, I was afraid that the magic was not my own, that I would lose it. I was afraid that everything I did may cause me to lose it: relationships, talking to people, hearing music, spending time outside my house. Anything may lead to a change in me, I believed, that would cause me to lose that magic.
“A sentence could only be magical once, and I would sit in my house for hours on end, waiting for the single inspiration of a single sentence. And eventually it would always come. And once it had come, I knew that if I did not write it down, I would never be able to duplicate the magic of that sentence, never be able to create another minute so magical in that instance in the story.
“But a few years ago, through events in my life which are too long to be told here, I learned that if I lose one magical moment, there is another around the corner. I learned that inspiration comes to me many, many times a day. I learned that my mind does magical things all the time, because it sees magical things around it all the time. I learned that there is no need to fear the loss of inspiration, because inspiration is endless and all around me. I learned that a magical sentence lost is quickly followed by a magical sentence gained. It will be a different magical sentence, brought about by an inspiration of another kind, but it will be magical nonetheless.
“You see, my dear King John, I learned that everything is magic. And ever since I have learned that life-lesson, I have been writing freely and openly and without fear, just as I have lived my life freely and openly and without fear.”
King John the Cute gently touched the shoulders of the old man. “Thank you for that story. It is a good last story to hear before my death.”
“What? You’re going to die now? How will we ever get the story published in the next few minutes?”
“Through magic,” answered King John the Cute, “through the magic in everything.”
The king handed the papers back to the author. “In a few minutes, you will have to read this to the world. Prepare yourself.”
King John the Cute turned around and faced the world. “Stones! Sand! Buildings! Roads! Glass! Winds! Everything and everyone around me! It is I, King John the Cute, and I have a task for every magical creature that lives on this magical planet! In a minute, my friend here will begin to read a story. You must convey this story aloud to all who would hear. And you must tell the magical objects near you to carry this story forth to all creatures around the world, who must in turn tell the story aloud to all humans present and then pass it on to the objects next to them. This story must be heard around the world within the next hour or all is lost!
“I know you have waited for me for many years. Now this is what you can do so I may fulfill the prophecy and my destiny and save my world, this world, and a third one. Do this for me! Do this for you! I decree it, for I am King John the Cute!”
“We obey!” “We obey!” “We obey!” these words echoed throughout the park, and quickly spread around the world. “We obey!” “We obey!” “We obey!”
“Now,” said King John the Cute.
The old man, astounded, looked down at the paper and began to read his story.
Around the world, high-rise buildings began to tell the tale of the birth of King John the Cute, and the prophecy hidden by him from his mother.
Around the world, the winds shrieked of Shadowy Secret’s birth.
Around the world, water gurgled of the frightening encounter between Death and John the Cute when the king’s name appeared on Death’s list.
Around the world, stones, radios, TV sets, books, flowers, dust specks, boulders, trees, roads, light bulbs, stamps, clouds, cars, airplanes, towels, glasses, shadows, scissors, raindrops, snowflakes, rainbows and all other objects in the world spoke the same story, aloud, and in unison, so that all humans could hear, and none could deny that around them everything was magic.
The story of King John the Cute and Shadowy Secret was heard not by dozens, not by thousands, not by millions, but by billions. The story was heard by all humans around the world, and the bubbles emerged from the humans’ minds, and united at a speed previously unseen on the planet Earth, to create a great tunnel that led to another world. So powerful was the creation of this tunnel, and so strong was it, supported by the imagination of billions, that it did not reach the Afterdeath, as all new tunnels do, but led to the Deepest Crevice, the spot where Shadowy Secret was born.
King John the Cute looked above him after the old man finished telling his tale. “I will not wait for the tunnel to form completely, for I do not know where it may lead. I will travel back through a tunnel I have seen before, a tunnel that will lead me back to my palace. It has been a pleasure, dear friend. Thank you for everything you have done. You have saved two worlds.”
“And you have saved me. Goodbye, and enjoy the Under World.”
For the last time, ten thousand butterflies minus one engulfed the king and carried him upwards. There, they thrust him into a tunnel the old man could not see, and the dying king vanished from sight. The butterflies flew on their ways, to busy themselves with other tasks.
This has been the last story of King John the Cute’s adventures on the planet Earth. This has also been the story in which mankind, in its entirety, learned that everything is magic.
(To be continued on Thursday…)
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