STORY - Krumple-frummped

           Belinda, perched on one's rear, cocked the iced cupcake a little toward the right as her father, Cork, bended a corner. They occupied a buggy, one which they called Pandy, for the morning the account for the vehicle was established, Belinda had plucked a wild Pandananium flower. "Dearest Mr. Cork," Belinda begged her stooped father, "please do and try be mindful of me, for I maintain the world's most coveted baked good --- a cupcake." She smiled pleasantly up at him.
  "Oh my dearest Belinda," He scoffed, "I might as well be a beggar with you standing there, but I do adhere acquiesce to your request."
  "Mr. Cork," Belinda mused, "why does my father tease his daughter so?"
  "Ah," chuckled Cork, "Tiz because I am so fond of my precious jewel, darling."
Belinda blushed, and refrained from uttering another phrase.

          Soon the two were well on their way to the vicinity to where they had earlier made an appointment to be. Belinda was intensely feeling as though her stomach might as well lurch upon this wonderfully made cake, for she hadn't eaten since early that morning, and it was nearly noon if not past it entirely. Cork and his daughter worked their way to the front door of an old temple, one that was not fit for such highly esteemed as these. It's walls were falling apart, the doors wavering in the wind, yet inside, twas decorated in such a likable fashion, you should forget you had ever been by a horror at all. Mr. Cork took the cake from Belinda, as she stroll up the walk, and up the stairs. Then, he replaced it back into her own palms, and opened the door to her. She almost fell apart at the seams. Here was Rupurt, her dearly sick cousin. And Rodrigious, her Uncle of him. Belinda was nearly so joyful at seeing these old friends, she hardly noticed all of them were eating moldy bread or nothing that was appetizing. At that, she dropped the cake, and it fell to the ground with a splat. Belinda fainted, and Truly, another friend, helped her to a table where she lay wait. the cake, after all, was indeed alright, it had just suffered being gravitated to the ground. Also the like was Belinda, after gaining consciousness again shortly. Seeing ones such as old friends, dearly beloveds, cousins, and old acquaintances made her feel krumple-frumped inside, but she was at the least doing alright. She had the wonderful ability to take a chance at speaking to her past acquaintances, and that made her gleeful.

Suddenly, her name rang out throughout the room. Belinda gasped.

    "Did I truly hear my voice? And why, then, did who called it call it?" She inquired.

Another ringing of her name sent her flying to her papa, terrified.

    "Why, dear one, are they calling out your name you ask?" He lifted her chin. "Ah, Lindy. It is not their voices, but the voices of them which is inside of them. The ones - the spirits - that are inside of them want you. They want to take you away from me."

By now, a few effortless tears dripped from her lashes to her cheek as she quietly understood what her unearthly father was saying.
    "Now, dear one, is your time. what will you choose: us or them?"

    "I cannot make that decision myself, father, you know-"
    "Ah, but you can. Now which one do yo choose? Me? Or them?"
    "I choose you."
Then, Belinda's name rung out once more.

    "Belinda, are you not the one who has baked and frosted the world's best and largest cup cake?"
    Belinda blushed. "Yes, I am."
    "Then we do not want you here. Go."
    Belinda almost dropped faint again. "But I have worked so hard!"
    "And that is precisely why we do not allow you here."
    "I see." Belinda and her father walked silently out the door, with the cup cake, hand in hand."


Miss Emily