0028 – Girl: A Window That Opens On Command, By Gareth

Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was in very grave danger, and had to get a window open at all costs.

The man writing her story couldn’t just write the simple story of the girl opening the window, because his book had to be a certain length in order for the magic to work. So, he decided to tell the detailed story of exactly why she needed to open this window, in order to pad out the pages.

The girl was from a sweet little village. She lived with her brother and mother, who she loved very much. But that village, and its innocent and well-balanced way of life, were under threat.

Many miles away, but drawing ever closer, was an army.

This was an army of stone-faced men with stonier hearts. The objective was not the village, specifically – their target was simply everything. They didn’t want to destroy anything, not unless it proved absolutely necessary. What they wanted instead was to convert, control, subjugate, and standardise.

There would be no room for the little village’s pleasantly humanistic way of life under their rule. There would be no place for its quaint little traditions, or its simple tales of gods and heroes. There would be no allowance made for the playfulness and curiosity of its children.

That’s exactly why the little girl needed to open the window so badly. Beyond it lay a well-stocked armoury, filled with well-maintained weaponry. With it, perhaps the people of the village would be able to hold their own for a short time, but ultimately, each and every one of them would be killed in the defense.

If she could get into the armoury, she could destroy the weapons inside. And if she could do that, she could make them give up before the fight even began. Life under the army’s rule would be hard – at times even unbearable – but the possibility of one day being free again, after occupation, would prove to be their only hope.

The men and women of the village were already preparing for a raucous celebration of machismo. When they finally held it, their collective spirit would be riled in a blaze of drunken chest-beating.

This made it all the more important for the little girl to act now, while she could.

Far away, the footsteps of the approaching army beat in rhythm. Their ranks stretched on as far as the eye could see. Where the terrain did not conform to their expectation, where the foliage that grew did not allow them to pass in formation, they simply cut, burned, trampled. Theirs was a mission of forced compliance. In their eyes, they were bearers of the torch of civilization, brave lightbringers in wild lands.

If they encountered any resisting people, they would simply cut them down, too.

The little girl scratched and clawed urgently at the armoury window. This would be her only opportunity to conduct her vital sabotage. In this moment, nothing else mattered to her.

The little window proved to be impossible to open by any normal means. It could not be pulled open with her fingers. It could not be smashed, even if she tried. There was no keyhole to unlock, and if she had a tool – such as a crowbar – with which to prise it open, it would still not have budged. No feat of cunning or strength could open the window. It was truly obstinate.

Despite her young and frail body, the girl straightened herself up into an authoritative stance. She had no way of knowing why or how her next attempt would succeed – but instinctively, she knew it would.

The girl pressed her hand to the window, and commanded it. “Open!”

Immediately, the window opened wide! In fact, it even opened outwards. Its orientation was irrelevant. She could even have been some distance from the window, and called out her instruction. It would have opened anyway!

The girl entered the armoury, scrambling around in desperation, destroying weapons left and right. I forgot to write this, but she brought a saw in with her, to deface their wooden handles. Don’t question it.

Luckily, the window stayed open, refusing to trap her inside or any other inconvenient, backstabbing consequence of employing magic for such a mundane task. In fact, it would stay open and fully accessible until she decided to push it closed – if in fact she decided to do that at all.

Apparently, there need to be nearly three hundred more words describing this incredibly simple chain of events. And so, the writer of this book continued to tell the story of the little girl, who he felt rather bad for on reflection.

Many awful things happened after this point. The girl’s village was invaded, and occupied. Its culture, religion, and other distinguishing factors were virtually erased, persisting only in the memories of its quietly defiant residents.

Luckily, however, the girl was outside of the village bounds when the army moved in, and she was able to escape them without being seen.

She went on a long and arduous quest, which led her to enlist the help of a powerful magician to help her free the village from the evil army’s grip. Except because evil doesn’t really exist no matter what a certain book says on the subject, they weren’t really evil, just very misguided.

The magician’s help was not enough to liberate the little hamlet, however. She would also need to venture across to the other side of a vast lake, where a fearsome dragon waited in a dark cave. With the girl’s pure and innocent heart, and the power of love, she tamed the dragon, and together the three of them set her lovely village free.

What an incredibly generic fantasy story that was. Unfortunately, since it’s all a load of made-up rubbish, the only relevant bit of it was the bit where the window opens immediately and with no silly clauses attached.

And now, with eight more words, it’s over!

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