Time to tell a story

“Do you want to hear a story?”

“No.”

Not the usual answer from her daughter. “Oh?”

The girl whipped out a self made sword, out of paper towel rolls and origami paper. “I’mma make one!”

The mother watched with interest. “Are you? Mind telling me how?”

“I’m going to go save some nobility and become a hero?”

She nodded at her daughter’s words. “That would work. What if there are no nobles in trouble?”

That didn’t slow her down. “Then I’ll get ’em in trouble first!”

While that was nice and all, none of that would put her to bed. Reluctantly, the mother convinced her such adventures were best left to the morning.

So scary

She shuffled under her covers. “Goodnight dad.”

“Goodnight, sweetie. Did you want me to check under your bed?”

The girl shook her head. Maybe a little too quickly. “No, that’s okay.”

Her father chuckled, kissed her on the forehead, and left her alone in the dark. For a full minute, the room remained quiet. Then a sigh came out from under the bed.

“Thank you.”

“My dad’s not that scary,” the child admonished. She scooted over to the edge of the bed, sticking her head over, beginning to peer as far as she could underneath. She could see a clawed hand, hair sticking up every which way.

“I beg to differ!”

“He’s my dad!”

Her protest caused the creature to sigh again. “I know, I know. But… give me a bit more time, okay? I’ll meet him soon.”

“Promise?” she asked them.

“Promise.”