There once lived a Little Monster named Henry in Big wood. Henry was a funny looking monster, he had a small little body and a very long nozzle. His eyes were big, round and blue and the rest of him was pure white. Each day, Henry would wake up in the morning and scuttle to the Big Stream. There, he would spend the rest of his day eating all the Little Bugs that would come in his way. After thus enjoying his day, Henry would creep back into the Big Tree that was his home and sleep till the next morning.
One particularly sunny day, when Henry was eating his regular Little Bugs by Big Stream, a Little Girl came skipping along and stopped upon seeing him. Henry put on his best scary monster face but the Little Girl just smiled at him and said “Hello”. Henry was startled, he didn’t know what to do. No human had ever spoken to Henry before, they usually just ran in the opposite direction on seeing him. Trying to hide his confusion, Henry replied “Hello”.
The Little Girl continued to talk “My name is Eliza, I’m just passing by Big Wood to visit my grandmother’s place on the other side. She isn’t feeling too well. She’s sad because of all the bugs that are in her house. They never seem to leave and keep growing in numbers. I thought I would bring her some flowers from Big Wood to make her feel better. Who are you and what are you doing here?”
Surprised at the long speech, Henry stood silent for a moment and then said, “My name is Henry. I’m the Little Monster of Big Wood. I live in the Big Tree and eat Little Bugs by the Big Stream.” The Little Girl looked extremely happy at hearing this and replied, “Oh Henry, would you please come and see my grandmother with me? She doesn’t live far away so it’ll be a short walk and once we get there, you can eat all the Little Bugs you want. Please say yes.” Henry looked at the Little Girl’s big blue eyes and said “Yes”.
Thus, Henry and Eliza skipped happily on to the grandmother’s house and became best friends forever.
Sloan looked around at all the files and papers in her room with a blank expression. Work no longer interested her. She tossed aside a report and walked to her balcony. Leaning on the railings, she looked across the clear blue skies at the london skyline. He’s out there somewhere, probably with someone else right now, she thought. But he’ll find me soon she added to herself. Being the true romantic that she was, she turned around to look at the door hoping for a knock, then to her phone, listening hard for a ring and finally to her laptop, wishing for an email. But sadly, this not being a movie, none of what she wanted she got. So she turned back to look at the skies and traced a seagull’s flight across the rooftops. She watched it fly from one roof to another, occasionally resting here or there and then moving on. She finally turned away when she saw it fly to another seagull and the weight of her loneliness crashed upon her again. Moving back to her room, Sloan collapsed onto her bed, silently weeping. She thought of the countless days, afternoons and nights she’d spent like this recently. The tears had become such a routine that they didn’t even feel wet anymore.
You’d find it hard to ignore the beauty of the picture of our present scene if looked on from above. There she lay, on her big king sized bed, among all the white satin sheets and pillows, Sinatra playing in the background. Her slender figure arched in a demure way. Her arms were stretched out in the perfect angles of a damsel in distress. Her skirt formed an elegant pattern around her. Her long dark flowing hair contrasting beautifully against the sheets.
She hadn’t been able to concentrate on her work for a while now. She had other things on her mind that were taking up far too much of her time. She was twenty four and she still hadn’t met a single man whom she could love. Another woman, a stronger woman would’ve perhaps put this to the back of her mind and concentrated on getting ahead in her career. But our Sloan, she wasn’t that strong and she didn’t want to put this thought to the back of her mind. She knew she was meant to be a loving wife and an over-caring mother.
Our Sloan was brilliant beyond words, graduated top of her class and extensively impressed everyone at her workplace. But there was only so much satisfaction she could get out of work. Sloan was waiting, since she was probably eleven, for her prince to rescue her, from what she did not know, but from something for sure. It wasn’t that she didn’t have enough love, her parents loved her beyond belief and she had friends she could always count on. But for every girl like Sloan, that was never enough.
A buzzing from her phone interrupted her thoughts. Hope rushed to her heart. Maybe it was a message from that special someone she was meant to be with. She tried to push that hope away, but it refused to leave her shining eyes. She cautiously made her way to her phone and looked at the screen.
Her face fell as quickly as her hope had risen, it was only a promotional text message from her service provider. Sloan sighed, shrugged and went on with her day, never giving anything she did a hundred percent since most of her was busy being sad all the time. It didn’t show as much though, her boss was happy with her work, her friends enjoyed her company as they all laughed and drank together and her parents were happy to hear how well she was doing. It was only at times when she was alone that she felt she was being real. It was at these times that she was truly sad and didn’t have to hide it. It was obviously hard for her to be so sad, but she felt a sense of pseudo content knowing that she was at least feeling something.
As Sloan slept alone that night, somewhere far off in the distance, there was a couple passionately making love. When they were done, the guy looked at the girl and said “I want to be here with you forever.” He wouldn’t. Thankfully for Sloan, this guy would eventually find her and they’d work hard at making it work out.
The last paragraph might not be appropriate cause it makes the story boring but it is written as the author refuses to lose hope for Sloan.