Reposting: Three Tales
From May 2006, three slightly twisted fairy tales, in 100 words each.
Late
You are destined to save her, they told him, but he scoffed. Saving a princess from a dragon, or an ogre, or an evil knight - those are glorious actions worthy of a prince.
But saving one from brambles and a nap?
So he waited, looking for a better situation, until finally, as years had gone by and nothing better had come along, he went.
He battled through the brambles, made his way through the labyrinth of the sleeping castle, and finally found a bed, hung with canopies of silk and dust.
In the bed, he found a note.
"You're late."
Beautiful
The village boys told her she was beautiful enough to be a princess until she believed them.
Fooling the prince was easy enough, but she thought the queen, who regarded her with cold, hard eyes, suspected something.
She was, therefore, not surprised when she saw the mattresses piled up to the ceiling.
The next morning she complained loudly of the lump in the bed.
The queen, with a pleased smile, turned her out of the palace after breakfast.
There had been no pea beneath the pile of mattresses.
The queen, too, had once been beautiful enough to be a princess.
Glass
At the palace, they danced, and he told her she was flawless, divine, worthy of being his queen.
At home, she sat by the hearth, soaking her feet in cold water and picking slivers of glass from their soles.
The next morning he came riding through the village on his fine white horse, crown and sword gleaming almost as brightly as the slipper on its blood red velvet cushion.
She watched, waited till her sisters were racing to greet him, and then she slipped out the kitchen door, her bare feet making no sound in the forest as she ran.
Late
You are destined to save her, they told him, but he scoffed. Saving a princess from a dragon, or an ogre, or an evil knight - those are glorious actions worthy of a prince.
But saving one from brambles and a nap?
So he waited, looking for a better situation, until finally, as years had gone by and nothing better had come along, he went.
He battled through the brambles, made his way through the labyrinth of the sleeping castle, and finally found a bed, hung with canopies of silk and dust.
In the bed, he found a note.
"You're late."
Beautiful
The village boys told her she was beautiful enough to be a princess until she believed them.
Fooling the prince was easy enough, but she thought the queen, who regarded her with cold, hard eyes, suspected something.
She was, therefore, not surprised when she saw the mattresses piled up to the ceiling.
The next morning she complained loudly of the lump in the bed.
The queen, with a pleased smile, turned her out of the palace after breakfast.
There had been no pea beneath the pile of mattresses.
The queen, too, had once been beautiful enough to be a princess.
Glass
At the palace, they danced, and he told her she was flawless, divine, worthy of being his queen.
At home, she sat by the hearth, soaking her feet in cold water and picking slivers of glass from their soles.
The next morning he came riding through the village on his fine white horse, crown and sword gleaming almost as brightly as the slipper on its blood red velvet cushion.
She watched, waited till her sisters were racing to greet him, and then she slipped out the kitchen door, her bare feet making no sound in the forest as she ran.