how Miss Granch stole the 4th of July (part 1 of 2)
(originally posted 7/3/2019)
Once upon a time, in a country very similar to the one you now live in, there was a middle-aged woman name Granch. Marcy Granch to be more specific.
Mary Granch was not a happy person. Because the author of this tale decided to make her a person instead of a made-up cartoon character, it is inappropriate these days to call her butt ugly. If she was a Snorgel or a Drumpalump then the author could tee off and say all sorts of horrible things about her appearance but, because she is a human, let’s just say she was manifestationaly challenged.
She was as ugly as the word manifestationaly.
As a side note, if any of you kids are looking for something wonderful to do when you grow up that would help society a very small amount but certain authors a great deal, think about creating a spell check program for words that don’t exist.
If you are saying to yourself “I don’t ever remember reading a children’s story that includes side notes” might the author suggest you stick your head in an oven?
One day Miss Granch was watching videos on her computer. Outside the winds were blowing and the rain was coming down in torrents but she sat all snuggled up with a cup of cocoa. After she finished a video about how to improve her self-esteem she clicked on a video that was suggested to her by the site she was on.
If you are saying to yourself “So you’re telling me that she’s very open to suggestion” you have no idea how spot on you are.
If you are now smugly saying to yourself “I’m pretty good at sniffing out plotlines” can we just make a deal that you stop saying things to yourself and just read the damn story?
The video she clicked on was a hypnotist explaining how hypnotism works. “Fair enough” she said to herself.
Yes… she is allowed to say things to herself. She is in the story. You are not.
So eventually the hypnotist asked her to stare at a spinning wheel on the screen and suggested that her eyelids would begin to get heavy.
“They are getting heavier and heavier and then you’ll allow them to close” he said calmly.
Marcy Granch’s eyelids, heavy as could be, closed.
“You are feeling very relaxed” the hypnotist continued, “Your eyes are closing tighter and tighter. You feel so relaxed that you feel your eyelids simply melt into your cheeks.”
The howling winds outside, feeling a bit ignored, howled even louder but Marcy was far too relaxed to even notice.
The hypnotist snapped his fingers and Marcy felt a jolt run through her. “The more you try to open your eyes the more they will stay shut. The harder you try, the more they will stay shut.”
Marcy smiled to herself (and yes, you are allowed to smile to yourself… just keep quiet about it) and realized it worked. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t.
And with one final heave the winds and rain knocked over the necessary power lines and Miss Granch’s house went dark. Except she didn’t see it because her eyes were closed tight. All she knew was that the voice of the hypnotist was no longer with her and all she could hear was that sad little whimper a computer makes when it is shutting down.
Had she still been watching the video she would have heard the hypnotist snap his fingers and tell her she could open her eyes. Instead she sat there in the silent house unable to open them.
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