Many moons ago, an orphan by the name of Ophelia Hossenfeffer Strump was found wandering a dusty, dirt-track road with only her shawl and a small handbag. In this handbag, she kept the remnants of her school jotter, a tattered thing with spidery writing on it. In this notepad were written the songs that did not catapult her to fame as the smallest orphan singer in the world. She was happy but was shortly spirited away to the city by rich people hoping to turn her into a miniature Dolly Partox. Even then she still shopped at Lidl's stuffing as many nuts and raisins into her bag as possible while concocting and humming her tunes along the way. She recorded her first songs on an old 4-track. Later ones she gave a producer guy some money to make sound professional but sounded not so nice cos he thought it was good to have a lot of things going on but didn't like violins, cellos or real instruments. You will notice which ones these are cos they have a lot going on in them that is extraneous. Despite her height, Ophelia also knows a lot of big words. These were all written at the back of the notepad along with recipes for cake which she doesn't like cos she doesn't have a sweet tooth only some molars. There is little else known about Ophelia. She rarely indulges in normal conversation, preferring instead to stare at you with piercing grey eyes hoping that you get the meaning of life which, of course, is gurkins. Some say she is full of a fairy-like goodness. It is true that whenever you speak to her, a good message will come into your inbox and you will feel better. Her songs, however, betray a troubled dark side, the legacy of entering a world where nothing makes sense and many people are unhappy. In her own unique way, Ophelia tries to make sense of this confusion through the gift of music. Well, not gift, then. Medium of.
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