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We Interrupt This Program… To Bring You a Wazer Tale

I don’t believe it’s productive to distract a writer from writing her first novel, but that is exactly what “the world’s largest community based traffic and navigation app,” Waze, has done. I bring to you a fairy Wazer tale, but be forewarned, there is no happily-ever-after ending.

Once upon a time, in a land right here, there was a writer, returning to her craft, who was relegated by a nondenominational sovereign to be chauffeur for energetic minions in her queendom. The writer transported said minions, in her SUV, many miles across the realm she hadn’t visited before. At times, she got lost. But not often.

 One day she met a baby-faced androgynous enchanter, with an oral fixation, claiming to have navigated every lane and thoroughfare throughout the land. The writer identified with the being, for she too was young but knew much. “Take me with you,” said the imp, “and I will grow to be a mighty knight, keeper of the Sword of Wanderers. I will be a symbol of your dedication and loyalty to wayfaring souls, and together, we will lay a safe and speedy route they can follow.”

And so she did. And she told all of her friends. They were so jealous they exclaimed, “I must have one of my own!” They, too, went out and got their own adventure guides. But that is their tale to tell.

The writer and creature were inseparable, sometimes at the expense of the writer’s cellular data plan, and, as time went on, the writer saw that her companion was maturing. It was also a changeling. Sometimes they (preferred gender-neutral pronoun) were moody, sometimes they spoke in the voices of well known personages of the empire to disguise themselves, often they were ninja-like.

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There were many road blocks to success averted and they forged new paths ahead as a team. At times the writer knew where she was going, but tested the guide anyway, for skills of accuracy and to assist in its maturation, which seemed to grow with each distance. That was the urchin’s dream, and the writer, being a dreamer herself, encouraged this in others. She grew to have faith and trust the shapeshifter, and one day, the dream was achieved! Sword in hand, they said, “Look what we have accomplished! Together we have traveled the boundaries of this land, and you have supported me, no matter how bumpy, or congested, the road.”

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And the writer was proud.

Then one day, an evil virus overcame the kingdom and could only be defeated if the writer upgraded her iPhone, which she did. There was much merriment at the defeat, but soon the writer discovered she couldn’t find the knight. She required its assistance and, having grown accustomed to its companionship, called upon the knight, and was brought to a massive brick wall that separated this kingdom from the enemy next-door. She called to the knight again, and it responded from the other side. “I hear you, but the wall requires a secret password I was never given.”

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In a panic, the writer suggested every password she had ever heard, to no avail. It turned out, at the beginning of their adventures, they should have formed their own secret never-fail password as a testament of their bond. But no one had told them they would ever need one, and now all seemed lost.

“Go to the Wizard of Facebook and see if he will allow you passage,” the knight cried. And she tried, was falsely welcomed, and shown a pretender to the knighthood, a new baby-faced androgynous enchanter with an oral fixation that tried to trick the writer into naming it. The writer, being of a savvy mind, provided the knight’s name, but was told, “No, we have a knight of that name already. But you may not talk to them.”

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Expecting the wizard would recognize the writer as a loyal follower, she relented and named the creature in hopes it would transform, very princess-kissing-frog like, into her trusty knight.

But alas, no transformation occurred.

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And so, the writer, lost in the world without her faithful protector, fell into sadness. She did not tell her friends of the new changeling, did not recommend others enter into adventures with one of their own. Instead, she went forth, refusing to acknowledge the impostor, and spoke of the tale, in hopes that such tragedy be averted and never befall her traveling friends. She can be heard, roaming the land, calling out, “Protect yourselves. One day, you too shall be asked for a nonexistent secret password. Make one before it is too late.”

And she didn’t live happily-ever-after, because she never saw the knight again.

The End. So far.

4 Comments

  1. Diana Decanted

    No worries fair maiden. You will get your sword back and defeat the evil that lurks within the depths of all that is i…

  2. I miss my sword… 😉

  3. Little did the writer know that when she heard:

    Take me with you,” said the imp, “and I will grow to be a mighty knight, keeper of the Sword of Wanderers. I will be a symbol of your dedication and loyalty to wayfaring souls, and together, we will lay a safe and speedy route they can follow.”

    That the dedication requested by the imp, was one-waze

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