Who Can Break the Spell?

Once upon a time there was a Girl who enthusiastically read novels at bedtime.  She stacked these books neatly by her bedside, spines facing outward, and promised them that one-by-one they would be loved.  She told them she would smile at them, laugh with them, and even shed tears that dripped tenderly onto the pages.  She would make tiny little dog-eared corners at the tops and bottoms to bring her eyes back for future visits.  She told those books she loved them.  She told everyone she loved her books.  Her husband started to wonder if she loved those neat stacks better than him.  Sometimes the Girl whispered to her books that she did.  The Girl loved her books so much that she put them on special bookshelves, organized by author and genre, and even grouped them together by color occasionally.  She couldn't bring herself to borrow a book from the Library, for fear that the book would feel less-loved.  She wanted to purchase them, to hold them forever, to lend them out and see how happy they were when they were returned home, to their special shelf.

One day the Big, Bad Laptop made its appearance into the Girl's home.  The Big Bad Laptop was sleek and pretty.  It made little beeps, tones, and pictures.  It introduced her to the Villain of the story, we'll call her Mrs. Blogh (with an "h" to protect the innocent).  The Girl set aside her pretty books, but just this one time, she told them.  The books pouted on her nightstand for the night, but they knew she'd be back.  They knew her love for them could not be replaced.  

But the next night The Girl toted her Big Bad Laptop to bed.  She lifted the top, smiled, glanced at her husband, and became enrapt in a new world.  A world that one measly little book could not offer, for the Big Bad Laptop offered hundreds, and millions of stories.  And it weighed much less than hundreds of millions of books.  The books got sad.  They never knew they had to worry about their weight.  They pouted some more, and began to weep.  Unfortunately the Girl did not notice their weeping, for the dust collecting on these books hid their tears.  

The days and nights went on.  The stack next to the Girls' bed grew.  She made more promises.  I'll be back.  I'll visit you, and you, and you ... but she kept forgetting.  

And so, as with every classic Fairy Tale, not the Disney kind the Brothers Grimm kind, the Villain wins, and the Big Bad Laptop sweeps the Girl away.  They fall in love.  They make little Blogh babies and they live in a dark forest far, far away.

The End

Unless ... the sweet and quiet strength of those books happen to pull the Girl out of her spell.  Could it be?  Could they forgive her, invite her back, show her how to balance life, family, hobbies, and Mrs. Blogh?  Maybe the Girl needs something from the Self-Help section.