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Earth tickles me with a million of her fingers as she dresses me in splotchy green. She rambles in tensed clickety tongues. Every couple of minutes she coils her pointy fingers around my knees to maneuver me in circles for the fitting. It hurts but I cannot blame her. It is a critical night and I must look my best for the Queen. She leaves my hair alone because messy and knotty is how the Queen likes it. And she spritzes scent on the back of my neck so I smell like cut grass and rain. She says it reminds the Queen of her lost homeland.

Pearl white steeds with biscuit antlers on parrot heads draw in a carriage. It resembles a computer from the stone age sitting atop burnt rubber donuts. It is the Queen, here at last! I run to the gates of the mansion to welcome the Queen with a tray full of moondust cookies I made from scratch. Earth said moondust is what makes the Queen dance to the whistling of the icy northern seas, a request I must make. Draped in silk woven from the night sky, the Queen steps off the carriage and starts walking towards me.

As she gets closer, I notice she has a strange smile—upside down with flared nostrils above it, perhaps traditional to her lost homeland. The star-embedded Queen halts before me and says in slow motion, “You—are—grounded,” stressing on every word. It must be important what she says. I do not understand the meaning of her royal words, but I smile because it is an honor that the Queen has chosen to address me in person. She takes me by my ear and walks me through the garden of little rainbow men and broccolis in party hats. This is and will always be the greatest night of my life.


Tejaswinee Roychowdhury is a lawyer by day, a scribbler by night, and a curator of useless thoughts. She plucks people out of imaginary worlds and places them across genres. Human creatures are her favorite subjects but she prefers keeping a safe distance. Find her tweeting at @TejaswineeRC and her works chronicled at

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