a story that I like

(the story so far)once upon a time there was a king called Marcus who loved his queen, Marlyn, more than all the world and the stars combinedIn the mornings he would bring her egg and toast, made by himself (he wouldn't let the servants help) and in the evening he would fluff her pillows before she lay downHe loved his queen so much that he couldn't listen to his generals during the council of war, and kept getting distracted while his royal treasurer was giving his accounts.He loved her so much that he commissioned the best sculptor in the land to make a statue of her out of pure white marbleThe scultptor was given a royal estate so he could work in complete concentration. Everyday the king's hunt would catch fine game for the scultptor to eat, and the king proclaimed that no one might bother or insult the scultptor in any wayAfter a year, the king asked the scultptor how it was going and the sculptor said that althought the work was progressing fast, the queen's beauty was such that the job was very difficult, very stressing, and he wasn't finished quite yetThe king worried even more, and took to going round to the scultptor's house to fluff his pillows, so that he would get a good night's rest before each day of work on the statue.After two years the statue was finished and the whole kingdom came to marvel at it. Indeed, it was a thing of complete wonder! The light fell on the statue, looking like it was kissing soft, white, skin. The eyes followed you around the room with a look of love and regal - almost divine - authority.When the queen herself saw the statue she was immediately flattered immensely and praised the sculptor and her husband the king to high heaven. But as the openning ceremony wore on, she stood further and further away from the statue, and finally, before it was even midnight said that she was overcome with tiredness and had to retire to her quarters.(second half)The king and his courtiers danced all night, admiring the statue, which seemed to grow more and more beautiful to them as the night wore on. In the morning the queen wasn't rested at all, but was pale and tired.At breakfast time the king decided to let her sleep and went, instead, to see how his statue looked in the morning light. Oh! It was more wonderous than ever! It's eyes seemed to shine with a luster, it's skin looked soft and inviting. The lips - oh the lips! - were full and round and seemed to whisper "Kiss Me" to the king.The king spent nearly the whole day with the statue, and by the evening his wife the queen had not recovered from her swoon, but instead had become even more frail.Th next day the king was to distracted by thoughts of his beautiful statue that he could not listen to his generals in the council of war, nor could he concentrate on the accounts when his royal treasurer laid them out for him. All he could think of was the beauty of the statueThe state of affairs went on for weeks, with the king obsessed by the beauty of the statue, and the queen growing more and more weak. One day, when the king was brought news that a neighbouring kingdom had raided his borders he did not visit the queen at all throughout the whole day.In the night she died and the news was brought to the king as he sat at the feet of the statue in the ballroom. He rushed at once to her bedside, but - too late! - her beauty had faded forever.The king was distraught beyond measure and tore at his hair and clothes and stomped around the palace wailing. Nothing seemed good or true or beautiful to him now - now he'd lost his queen he remembered how much he'd loved her.Because of what it brought to mind he could not stand the statue any more and ordered it moved to a corner. Now when he looked at it is seemed an ugly thing. And so it became, hanging with cobwebs and covered in dust.The king was so long in mourning that he did not have time to listen to his generals or his treasurer about the troubles in the kingdom. Soon the neighbouring kingdoms had taken all the land, and his generals had gone off to join their armies, and the treasurer took the money off to the city and all the servants left and the king wandered the palace in miserable isolation, his footfalls echoing now down the empty corridors - the loneliness man in the world, having lost everything.One evening, at dusk, he stopped in what had once been the great ballroom and he caught sight of the statue, which was now a disgusting thing, wilted in the corner. The shine was gone from its eyes and the softness from the skin. Eventually, from neglect, it had just crumbled and falled.At this point the king realised the point of his tale. The queen had faded when he ignored her for the statue, and the kingdom had faded when he'd ignored it as well. Finally, when he'd lost everything important he'd ignored the statue as well and that had faded to the ugly thing it was now. He realised that beauty wasn't a physical thing, something you could capture and fix in a statue, it wasn't intrinsic, but instead it arose when you loved someone or something and it grew the more and more the longer that your adored them.
THE END

By my friend the secret mayor of sheffield