The Little Princess

When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry "Weep! weep! weep! weep"
So your chimneys I sweep, and in soot I sleep.
-William Blake

Sara breezed down the stoop of her city home her heels clicking against the craggy stones of the damp steps. Her mind was absent, floating in another world where the air was hot with spices and colors bloomed year around. The one place it was not was where she stood, in the drizzly atmosphere of London. Where the lacking winds were full with the scent of sewage.

Sara sighed deeply before heading along the sidewalk where scrappy children played a legendary game of tag. Multiple 'Hullo Miss Sara's followed in the whirls behind them. "Hullo," she cried after them.

One mite of a boy moped far after the troupe. "Hullo to you, Harry."
The chap looked up into her face with his own soot covered one, "Miss Sara," he nodded.
"How are you this morning?" she leaned over a pinch to level out their opposing heights. "In tru' ho'esty?" he asked, not hiding the look in his eyes.
"Always." Sara added pep to her answer while she truly just wanted to wrap his adorable scruffy blonde head in her arms, but he was far too grown for that, or so he thought.
"Tired." he let the smile he put on droop at the edges, "Bu' I gahha get ta work,"

On a Sunday? Sara thought to herself as her want to hold him grew. "Well, I have something to wake you up!" She said, jumping around him to lift his spirits.
Harry just walked on unmoved by an eighteen years old girl hopping around him like a dysfunctional frog. He rubbed at his big brown eyes.
"I am going to continue my story," she told him when she moved back by his side walking with poise again.
A small spark of interest glinted in his eye. "Okay"
"Hmmm, where was it that we ended last time?"
"Raja had jest told his 'rents he want'd ta mee' the prety princess Lame." he grinned.
Sara giggled at his mispronunciation of the princess' name. "Okay," she cleared her slender throat, " So. His parents didn't know where her country was though. They were clueless..

"Then I must go and look for it," said the prince.
"No, no," they said, "you must not leave us. You are our only son. Stay with us. You will never find the Princess Labam"
" I must try and find her," said the prince. "Perhaps God will show me the way. If I live and I find her, I will come back to you; but perhaps I shall die, and then I shall never see you again. Still I must go"
So they had to let him go, though they cried very much at parting with him. His father gave him fine clothes to wear, and a fine horse. And he took his gun, and his bow and arrows, and a great many other weapons; "for," he said, "I may want them." His father too, gave him plenty of rupees.
Then he himself got his horse all ready for the journey, and he said goodbye to his father and mother; and his mother took her handkerchief and wrapped some sweetmeats in it, and gave it to her son. "My child," she said to him, "when you are hungry eat some of these sweetmeats"
He then set out on his journey, and rode on and on till he came to a jungle in which were a tank and shady trees. He bathed himself and his horse in the tank, and then sat down under a tree…"

Suddenly Harry gave a disheartening frown and stopped in his tracks. Sara enthralled in her story stopped moving too but didn't pause the tale for many seconds later, "What's wrong, Harry?" she asked finally.
"This are my stop. I gahha get my broom an' go ta work." He informed her, standing up straight.
You're too old for yourself Harry. Sara sighed, "I guess I will have to finish another time then"
"Goodbye Miss Sara." he nodded as he did when they began their walk together.
"Ta Harry." She pouted as he turned his soot tainted back to her as he walked down a dark alley. Then she headed farther down the street to the church for it was Sunday, the day of worship and rest.