Cinderella sassily walked in, wearing a royal blue gown. Her blonde hair was pulled back with a matching blue band, and she was wearing two tiny glass shoes that looked rather painful to walk with. She had a ten-foot wide smile plastered onto her face.The fairy godmother had probably popped her into a new dress and sent her here.
Ugh. The prince is obviously gonna pick HER.
They were talking and having a good time. Suddenly, something happened that I couldn't process. I was sure it had to be related to the fairy godmother (I confirmed this by finding traces of pixie dust outside Cinderella's room).Cinderella ran away from the prince! The prince was running after her, but it was too late.
Wait! Come back!
He picked up one of the tiny glass shoes that she'd dropped on the way out. I immediately rounded up my daughters and headed home, scared that something bad would happen to Cinderella.
When I got home, I saw her scrubbing away at the floor with a sponge. She cocked her head and smiled at me. "Hello, mother. How was the ball?" she asked.That lying little wretch! I decided to hold my tongue though.
Hello, mother. How was the ball?
Cinderella! Cinderella! Come down stairs!
A couple of days passed as usual. For the second time that week, the royal messenger arrived at our house. He was carrying a small cushion, and on top of it was the delicate glass slipper. I called Cinderella to come down, for obvious reasons. But I had no reply. I was wondering what was taking her so long.
I was wondering what was taking her so long. The messenger was asking my daughters to sit down and slip their feet into the shoe, but of course it didn't fit.