Fairy Tale

A long time ago in a far-away place lived an elf and a waif and a pudding. They lived in a tree made of canvas and clays and worked out in the branches. The elf was a shoemaker, as the story tells. He made shoes for leprechauns. Most of the shoes were green but on Fridays he would only make red shoes. The waif was a remnant of the Old World when Humans still existed. When the badgers rose up and silenced the guns only the waif survived, hiding in a puff dragon till the smoke dispersed. The waif was old. Infinitely, degeneratively old. She so wanted to be fat but who can be fat on mushrooms and drains? She still wore the clothes of her childhood but always had beautiful shoes. Red shoes, made on a Friday. The pudding was made of figs and honey and bark and candyfloss. It was shaped like an elephant but tiny. Fig puddings are bad for you and this pudding so wanted to be loved. It would sit at the door of the canvas tree and wail its distress at being puddingy until the elf and the waif huggled up and stroked its figgy paws and told it that they loved it. O lovely pudding, o pudding my love. At the end of the day they would wend their weary ways into the bowels of the tree and dance to the old songs until one by one they pirouetted into sleep.