Wishful Thinking
On a heath sitting beneath a toadstool, his head’s in his hands; his wings’re folded; his fairy tail swishes, and like a fool he’s wishing that Prince Charming’s blindfolded state won’t continue. It’s all that twit Cinder’s doing; the belle of the ball cast a spell. That glass slipper’s its trigger; it hinders all rational thought; the Prince’s not well, not since she banished Pink. Without invite, he can’t go; there’s no one to break the spell. A beloved voice booms out and he takes flight. Cinder’s gone; fairy dust falls, breaks the spell. “I thought I’d lost you, my friend,” the Prince … Continue reading Wishful Thinking


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