Allow me to introduce Wicklow, the Merry Reader of Brigadoonberry (better known as my bookshelf). He and his band of friends have been my faithful companions for a year now. Lively, spritely, and jovial, Wicklow was a popular lad. As all library gnomes are wont to do, he read and read and read until the sun shone through the curtain veil. When he wasn't reading, he enthralled audiences with brave tales of tempests, labours, love lost and found, and of course, happy endings.
But Wicklow had a secret, one he hid deep in his heart. He was lonely. He tried to fill the emptiness in a million different ways.
He played hide-and-seek with Sir Dooley...
He watched Cake Challenge till his eyes burned...
He threw back pints with his best mates, Londonderry and Dublin...
All to no avail. No matter what he did, his heart still felt empty.
Until last night. When he met her.
He thought, "Shall I write a sonnet?"
He thought, "Shall I play jazz?"
Now, Wicklow's heart is full and satisfied. And my bookshelf is filled with little readers eager to begin their lives as library gnomes-and-a-half. We couldn't be happier (or cheesier).
To love, literature, and lutefisk. Happy Valentine's month, folks.