05-03-2018, 12:22 AM
When Trix was a young woman, sometime before she started training racehorses and riding them to victory in national horse races, she liked to make mud pies in interesting shapes that offended the sensibilities of the straight-laced womenfolk of her sleepy little town. Many a distraught lady would come calling to tell Trix's parents what they had seen, and demand that they do something to curb their child's creative impulses.
But Trix would not be curbed. Her artistic creations became ever more realistic and lifelike, until even her own mother could no longer deny what they uniquely resembled. Her sculptures became larger and larger too, reaching such immense proprtions that they could no longer be kept hidden from travellers passing on the road in front of the house. Indeed, they eventually became so large that they towered over the countryside and could be seen from miles away.
The flabbergasted townsfolk had finally had enough, and insisted that the judge order Trix's parents to send her away to a convent. Wishing to keep peace in the community, they reluctantly agreed.
That didn't solve anything, however. No sooner had she settled in at the convent than Trix proceeded to invoke the outrage of the denizens thereof with her works. The Mother Superior called in an exorcist to cast demons out of the child. She was required to spend every waking hour either kneeling in prayer or performing work in the nunnery's vast gardens.
Nevertheless, the sculptures kept coming and coming. They got bigger and bigger until the base of each one covered an entire homestead plot.
Then, on her sixteenth birthday, it suddenly stopped. Trix had sublimated all of the immense energy of the massive symbols and concentrated it deep within her soul.
And that's when the real magic started happening.
But Trix would not be curbed. Her artistic creations became ever more realistic and lifelike, until even her own mother could no longer deny what they uniquely resembled. Her sculptures became larger and larger too, reaching such immense proprtions that they could no longer be kept hidden from travellers passing on the road in front of the house. Indeed, they eventually became so large that they towered over the countryside and could be seen from miles away.
The flabbergasted townsfolk had finally had enough, and insisted that the judge order Trix's parents to send her away to a convent. Wishing to keep peace in the community, they reluctantly agreed.
That didn't solve anything, however. No sooner had she settled in at the convent than Trix proceeded to invoke the outrage of the denizens thereof with her works. The Mother Superior called in an exorcist to cast demons out of the child. She was required to spend every waking hour either kneeling in prayer or performing work in the nunnery's vast gardens.
Nevertheless, the sculptures kept coming and coming. They got bigger and bigger until the base of each one covered an entire homestead plot.
Then, on her sixteenth birthday, it suddenly stopped. Trix had sublimated all of the immense energy of the massive symbols and concentrated it deep within her soul.
And that's when the real magic started happening.
