Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Princess

I'm in school right now. I finished the day's task and decided to write a strory. Here it is:
Once upon a time there was a princess who was locked in the highest tower of the tallest castle perched on the summit of the largest hill in the entire kingdom of Koul-wa. She stared at her pretty self all day long in her lovely little room entirely covered with the shiniest mirrors cleaned daily by cheerful bearded dwarves. These were the same little dwarves that brought her her midday meal of milk and bread. One jug of milk, one loaf of bread, every day exactly at noon. The princess had a closet full of dresses, all sorts of dresses, all kinds of colors. Chiffon and lace and silk sprung out from the inside if ever the fair maiden opened the gilded doors. The princess changed her fancy dress often, several times a day, in fact, since she had nothing else at all to do. Now she wore a sleek purple gown of the softest velvet as she sat daintily on her windowsill gazing out at the majestic kingdom spread out in a dazzling display below her. She sighed, for she wished she could escape from her rather dull room. She sighed, for all the other princesses she knew had been rescued by valiant, handsome young knights, clad in armor shinier than the mirrors surrounding her and riding horses that bucked and galloped in a most breathtaking way. Then she stood once again and twirled half-heartedly. The skirt of her dress was narrow, so there weren’t any flowing layers of fabrics to admire. With this, she slid out of the dress and pulled a puffy, fluffy, twirly, swirly dress with the very color and consistency of fairy floss. The complexity of the dress’s design made it difficult for the poor princess to locate the arm-holes. With a bit of searching, though, she was able to slide her arms into the puffy sleeves. She turned to one of the many mirrors surrounding her and straightened and smoothed the front, tugging at the skirts and adjusting the lacy hem. Now she twirled once again and was pleased to see how the skirts floated up and all about her. She laughed softly and swayed about, engaging in a little dance there in her bedroom. She felt like a cherry blossom drifting slowly towards the ground on a sunny spring day. But as she danced, the heartsick princess had a most unpleasant thought, an unfortunately impossible desire. If only I had a partner, the princess thought dreamily, if only I had a partner. And with this, she collapsed gently upon the silken sheets draping her bed, and stretched out facing the creamy-white ceiling.
The princess remained alone forever.
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