The Irritated Storyteller and the Three Fairy Godmothers
I dreamed that I was babysitting an acquaintance’s hypothetical kid. I sat on a rooftop with the baby in my lap looking onto the facade of a German palace. The setting sun glinted along the windows, making the building appear as if it had winking gold eyes. I began telling the kid a story about a princess exploring the palace and discovering witches (both good and bad) living in the rooms.
As I was about to get to a good part (the princess was in a confrontation with a particularly evil witch), three young women come out of nowhere (they appeared to be floating just off the edge of the rooftop, but in my dream, I didn’t question it) to take over my story with princes and tea time and who knows what else.
When they paused to think up the next thing, I said, “Please go ahead and finish it. I already had my story planned, but you can do whatever you want with it.” I said it solicitously, but I am very annoyed. I wanted the princess to take down the evil witch by her wits, not be rescued by some prince who then takes her to tea and some evening theater.
One of the young women opened her mouth to reply but couldn’t. The others clammed up. The kid appeared tired and not particularly thrilled with the derailed story line. But I woke up before I could get it back on track.