Thursday, November 17, 2016

Allison Morris #17 'Miniature Fairytale'

When my parents insisted that I find a wife, there were only three princesses left. 

The first one hissed at me like a cat and spat in my face. 

The second one was beautiful, but only nine years old. 

The third one had been imprisoned in a tower for many years, with only birds for company. 

I broke the door down and climbed a hundred stairs to save her. 

When I reached her room she tried to escape me, fluttering from wall to wall and squawking. 

When I tried to catch her she leapt from the window and was never seen again.


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