“…the last petal fell, and the beast was a beast for ever. Belle blamed herself, and never recovered. As her looks faded, she lived only for the stray cats she rescued”.
“Cinderella sat in the kitchen, listening as the prince rode away. He hadn’t even let her try the slipper on.”
“When the dwarves wouldn’t sell him the glass coffin, the prince rode away.”
Maddie threw the book aside. Her stupid brother had managed to scrape two gilded letters off the cloth binding. That “m’s” had made all the difference. These new stories were just grim.
This is for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo by Mary Gail Stratford. It’s such a detailed shot of such an unusual subject.