This is the story of a princess. She's not so little anymore but it has been her story ever since she was little.
Leah didn't have a castle, or carriages and the king wasn't even her father! All that was fine because if you sit at the front of a double-decker bus and wave your hand, you could almost feel like royalty (if you blew a kiss, you may even have a following). Just as like when you perch yourself on any window and look into the distance. Almost to Neverland.
But princess she definitely was, our not-so-little Leah.
On the pretty brunette cascade that dressed her head, sat an invisible tiara, made out of the glittering idea bubbles always bouncing in her head.
She never gave you her hand to kiss because her tiny fingers would often have streaks of colour from her notes and doodles. Traces of ink and paint that insisted on staying, just like her stories. And when you looked into her eyes, you could see wonder as wide as the world.
Sometimes she didn't know she was a princess. It's not like she forgot. She remembered everything. Like how the perfume-bathed Sheikh in business class dug his nose and wiped it on the first class curtain. Or when the lady with the gold purse and matching hair fussed and sent back three cups of coffee at the Italian cafe because they did not know how to make coffee, and then picked up a cup of coffee from the vending machine at the subway.
She also remembered some nice things like the little boy who exchanged his mushy peas with his grand Mum's chicken nuggets because she could not chew without her dentures. Funny thing, it was the first time princess Leah saw a toy car with teeth. Not that she knew much about cars anyway.
So it's not like she forgot things. She just didn't always know she was a princess, unless someone else knew it. And not every one else did because you have to be really lucky to know a princess.
How lucky are you?
