Paper Machete Parrot
It was the brightest pink. The brightest she'd ever seen outside of a painting.
The vibrant yellow and electric blues and greens accompanied the parrot's coloring.
"Take this and think about it before you go to sleep at night," Her aunt said. "In you dreams it will lift you on it's shoulders and fly you to places never visited before."
She took the paper machete bird in her arms and placed in in the corner of the room by the window.
Surely there it will take her to the wild ends of India or the exciting beaches of the Caribbean.
The closeness to the outside world will make an easy escape for a 6 year old to roam free on the wings of the beautiful parrot.
That night the little girl curled up in her bed and thought about the bird. Thoughts of islands and the ocean and golden palaces made her wish her new friend would take her soon.
Her eyes began to close and the dreams came to life.
A sudden flapping startled her and she was awaken to the familiar pinks and greens and blues of before. Before the child knew it, wind filled her blonde hair and that bed she closed her eyes in was shrinking. Purple mountains with warm snow. Tropical islands with falling leaves. Crowded cities with not a soul in sight, but her and her bird.
He flew her over Paris, Rome, Switzerland, Timbuktu and the London lights. Through the valleys, hills mountains and lakes of the world. She saw birds swimming and wales flying. Lady bugs swinging and monkeys crawling. The volcanos and springs. The blue skies. She saw people she knew but never met. She saw people she never met, but knew very well.
The parrot went back to the little house were the little girl closed her eyes, and watched her close them once again as he tucked her into bed. Her sound lips and her tired sigh put and end to the mystical night.
The next morning she woke like every morning. No dream was remembered. No mountains and lakes. No monkeys or springs. No wales or people. Just a night's sleep. No interruptions.