Prologue
Hello. Are you a reader person? Yes! I’ve been waiting for you for ages! Because guess what? I’m a storyteller. I tell all the stories about me and my best friend , Biddy. Well, Biddy doesn’t know I’m her best friend because she can’t see me. I’m invisible.
Don’t you adore the word invisible ? It’s just like ‘inside visible’. Like, say, for example, if you have underpants underneath your dress. Then the underpants are invisible —you can’t see them. But they’re still there, aren’t they? Well, it’s the same with me. Although Biddy can’t see me and I can’t see myself, I’m still here.
What do I look like?
Well, I think I look like this …
Or this …
But not this …
And I definitely haven’t got pointy ears or long feet.
How did I meet Biddy?
Me and Biddy came from the country. She used to live on a farm and I used to live in the Great Bushland , way past the bottom of her garden.
One day, I was tobogganing down the trunk of a white gum tree. Again. For the one hundredth, millionth time. Boring, boring, boring. When, suddenly, I heard a strange noise. I spun around and slipped.
Zuuup! I flew through the air. And, plonk! I landed in a tangle of hair. This hair was long and soft and attached to a little human girl.
The little girl was sitting under a tree with two huge drippy-tongue dogs. She was crying and cuddling the dogs.
‘I’m not going away,’ the girl was saying, through sobs and hiccups.
‘Going away?’ I asked, running onto the top of her head, and out to the end of her nose. ‘Where? Can I come? Please, please, please. I’ve lived in this Great Bushland for one million, six hundred and forty-two thousand years, nearly. I would love to go somewhere else.’
But the little girl just ignored me.
That was when I realised that she couldn’t see me, or hear me. So I just ran back up into her hair, and came with her to the city, all by myself.
And it has been so exciting ! In the city there are millions of people running and rushing and bumping. They say things like, ‘Sorry, excuse me. Sorry, pardon.’
And there are lots of magical creatures. One time, in the Centre of Town, we saw a magic pirate man who swallowed a great long deadly sharp silver sword.
And, another time, we saw a silver angel standing as still as a statue. Until she heard coins fall onto her money plate. Then she came to life and sprinkled stardust on Biddy’s shoulder, and some fell on me. It was splendiferous .
But the bestest thing of all about being with Biddy is that, each night, Biddy’s mum reads us stories from books. The stories are about all the magical creatures that I’d never heard of before I met Biddy. They are called elves and witches and pillywiggans.
The Great Bushland where I’m from is full of magical creatures, such as tiny flying ympes, and beautiful nefariouses, and foul-breathed fillikizard dragons. They act the same as the fairies and witches and dragons in Biddy’s storybooks. But they look totally different.
Here, let me draw you a picture …
Don’t I miss the Great Bushland?
No way! I love the city to infinity. And I totally adore living with Biddy. Although sometimes it is a bit annoying that she can’t see me, or hear what I say. Or when she does boring stuff like watching TV, or playing computer games, or listening to her music on her headphones.
But Biddy only does those things because she thinks that the city is too totally boring . She says there is nothing exciting to do. This is because Mum says we are not allowed to go anywhere by ourselves, in case we get kidnapped by the big-bad-stranger-persons or we get run-over-and-squashed-down-flat-by-a-car. But I think we can do exciting things anywhere.
So, that’s the problem. (You know how all stories have to have a problem? Well that is the problem for this story.) Biddy thinks her life in the city is boring and I love it. Shall I tell that story?
Okay. Wait a minute—I have to start
Hello. Are you a reader person? Yes! I’ve been waiting for you for ages! Because guess what? I’m a storyteller. I tell all the stories about me and my best friend , Biddy. Well, Biddy doesn’t know I’m her best friend because she can’t see me. I’m invisible.
Don’t you adore the word invisible ? It’s just like ‘inside visible’. Like, say, for example, if you have underpants underneath your dress. Then the underpants are invisible —you can’t see them. But they’re still there, aren’t they? Well, it’s the same with me. Although Biddy can’t see me and I can’t see myself, I’m still here.
What do I look like?
Well, I think I look like this …
Or this …
But not this …
And I definitely haven’t got pointy ears or long feet.
How did I meet Biddy?
Me and Biddy came from the country. She used to live on a farm and I used to live in the Great Bushland , way past the bottom of her garden.
One day, I was tobogganing down the trunk of a white gum tree. Again. For the one hundredth, millionth time. Boring, boring, boring. When, suddenly, I heard a strange noise. I spun around and slipped.
Zuuup! I flew through the air. And, plonk! I landed in a tangle of hair. This hair was long and soft and attached to a little human girl.
The little girl was sitting under a tree with two huge drippy-tongue dogs. She was crying and cuddling the dogs.
‘I’m not going away,’ the girl was saying, through sobs and hiccups.
‘Going away?’ I asked, running onto the top of her head, and out to the end of her nose. ‘Where? Can I come? Please, please, please. I’ve lived in this Great Bushland for one million, six hundred and forty-two thousand years, nearly. I would love to go somewhere else.’
But the little girl just ignored me.
That was when I realised that she couldn’t see me, or hear me. So I just ran back up into her hair, and came with her to the city, all by myself.
And it has been so exciting ! In the city there are millions of people running and rushing and bumping. They say things like, ‘Sorry, excuse me. Sorry, pardon.’
And there are lots of magical creatures. One time, in the Centre of Town, we saw a magic pirate man who swallowed a great long deadly sharp silver sword.
And, another time, we saw a silver angel standing as still as a statue. Until she heard coins fall onto her money plate. Then she came to life and sprinkled stardust on Biddy’s shoulder, and some fell on me. It was splendiferous .
But the bestest thing of all about being with Biddy is that, each night, Biddy’s mum reads us stories from books. The stories are about all the magical creatures that I’d never heard of before I met Biddy. They are called elves and witches and pillywiggans.
The Great Bushland where I’m from is full of magical creatures, such as tiny flying ympes, and beautiful nefariouses, and foul-breathed fillikizard dragons. They act the same as the fairies and witches and dragons in Biddy’s storybooks. But they look totally different.
Here, let me draw you a picture …
Don’t I miss the Great Bushland?
No way! I love the city to infinity. And I totally adore living with Biddy. Although sometimes it is a bit annoying that she can’t see me, or hear what I say. Or when she does boring stuff like watching TV, or playing computer games, or listening to her music on her headphones.
But Biddy only does those things because she thinks that the city is too totally boring . She says there is nothing exciting to do. This is because Mum says we are not allowed to go anywhere by ourselves, in case we get kidnapped by the big-bad-stranger-persons or we get run-over-and-squashed-down-flat-by-a-car. But I think we can do exciting things anywhere.
So, that’s the problem. (You know how all stories have to have a problem? Well that is the problem for this story.) Biddy thinks her life in the city is boring and I love it. Shall I tell that story?
Okay. Wait a minute—I have to start
Similar Books
