There’s a beauiful tree outside my bedroom window. I sit and watch it every morning as it’s branches sway backwards and forwards in the wind. I’m on the fourth floor of a four storey house, but at the moment, during this lock down, it somehow feels much higher. It feels like a tower, and I’m the princess in the tower, with nothing to talk to but the tree and my cat. (Don’t you dare mention that horrible Zoom!)
Well that’s a lie, I get regular visits from the court magician and the court jester. They entertain me from the bottom of the stairs while I peer down regally at them from the top.
Now I want to make it clear, I’m not waiting for Prince Charming to come and rescue me. If ever there has been a waste of space it’s that Prince Charming fellow. He doesn’t have to deal with the ugly sisters, or put up with those annoying gnomes, no, he just runs up at the last minute, when everything is almost sorted anyway, and takes all the credit for rescuing the princess when all he did was pick up her slipper, or kiss her on the lips. Or something, I don’t actually know what I’m talking about but I’ve got it in for that suave gentleman. That fop, that entitled creme puff!
And before you start acusing me of having it all in for the prince, I don’t think much of the fairytale princess either. Waiting patiently for this creme puff to turn up, huh! And assuming she’ll live happily ever after once he does. In my experience Prince Charming’s are nothing but let downs and fairytale princesses are fuzzy headed dainties that need an interest aside from finding a husband.
OK I admit it! I’m not actually the princess in the tower.
I’m the witch in the tower, with my familiars, casting evil spells on the beautiful and the charming.
Hahahaha! (evil laugh)
Well i need to do something during lock down.