Sophie Kipner

Snow White

Once upon a time, a little bluebird with an awkward smile flew over to an unsuspecting princess and perched himself on her welcoming shoulder.

“Hello,” he said, again smiling awkwardly. Tilting his eyes, the bluebird studied the sides of her face: her white-as-snow skin, the lines outlining her red lips, the ebony black of her hair.

She looked over, unsure of where the voice came from. Sensing her confusion, he cleared his tiny throat and tapped his straw-thin feet. 

“Well hello there, bluebird,” she sang as he fluttered gently on her left shoulder. She was known throughout the valley as the girl who sings, as she never so much as spoke without reaching vibrato. “I’m a narcoleptic, so you’ll have to excuse me if I fall asleep.”

“Nice to meet you, Princess. Strange, though, almost serendipitous that you’d tell me that,” the bird twirped. “But thank you for the warning.”

Snow White giggled. “Have you come to bring me news, bluebird?”

“I heard you lost your seventh friend,” the bluebird said. “The other day, I came across Happy wandering the forest, urgently trying to find his way home to deliver an important message to you. I believe it was something to do with knowing your future.”

“Well, thank you for coming to find me,” she sang as she pet his vibrant feathers, small and delicate as they were. “I’ve always known he was the clairvoyant type. Please, do go on.”

“He wanted you not to fear what will be known as the poisoned apple; you will not at all fall ill. Its succulent tastes will only trigger a narcoleptic spell, from which you will be awoken by a handsome prince’s kiss.”

“What a relief,” Snow White sighed, still in song. “Happy would never want me to think a prince could save me. My dear Sleepy, Grumpy, Sneezy, Happy, Bashful, Dopey and Doc have already done that.”

Having brought the soon-to-be queen news of good fortune, the bluebird smiled again quite awkwardly. So proud of himself, in fact, he smirked.

The End.