The Queen of Nonsensical sat at the head of the table, resting her head in one hand and tapping her fingers irritably on the sturdy oak with the other. The six consistent entities in front of her, three on each side, squabbled noisily. “Consistent” must be used here because of the presense of memory trinkets, all of which demanded their rights as citizens of the realm in their tiny, squeaky voices that matched their tiny, squeaky selves. The popping in and out of these little creatures created a vast amount of volume. In fact, the most noisome of the herd was a boy, held against his will between the thumb and first finger of Lady Amore. The hungry expression on the Lady’s face was lost to the trinket, whose protests had something to do with flowers, or some such nonsense.
A rather exaggerated yawn from the Queen drew all eyes to her and turned the din down to a tolerable roar. She resisted the urge to tug on her dress; while the pale pink French-style dress was pretty, she wished she had simply worn jeans and a T-shirt.
“I suppose he belongs to you,” the Queen said to Lady Amore, waving her hand dismissively. The hungry look morphed into a triumphant grin, somehow making the Lady appear even more wolf-like. A golden globe surrounded the boy, and the lady stuffed him in one of many empty pockets along the outside of her robe.
[Okay, so I suppose this deserves an explanation. Basically, I wrote this out in my notebook late last night. Before I go to sleep, I often have stories play out in my head. I found this one interesting enough to write it down.
This all takes place inside my head. It’s like, a picture of the inside. “Memory trinkets” are little baubles that hold “my” memories. The six characters, outside the Queen, hold different memories. I might draw this out more, showcasing other characters. The empty pockets represented my lack of love life. Kudos to you if you caught that.]