a sorta fairytale

         Cinderella comes home at
night, kicks off her shoes and pops a low-fat
frozen dinner into the microwave. She falls
asleep around midnight with the television on
late-night news, then wakes up and stumbles
groggily to bed. Her gaze travels across the
room, passing over the closet that hides an
old ball gown still encased in its original
plastic wrapping. And before her eyes drop
shut from exhaustion, she remembers when
she was little and believed in fairy tales, and
dreamed of turrets, marzipan clouds and
Prince Charming sweeping her away on a
Very Gallant Steed.

         But for her there was no Prince
Charming, because she wasn't pretty enough
to be noticed at the ball, and hadn't wanted to
go anyways, and her fairy godmother never
manifested herself in a burst of light and
lilac-scented powder. So she worked during
the day and studied all night until she was
able to leave her stepfamily behind, move to a
big city and pass the bar exam with flying
colors.

         She sleeps, and she dreams of
investment portfolios and hung juries, and
when she wakes up the next morning she
doesn't remember any of it. She takes a
shower and thinks that maybe she'll meet
Prince Charming today, and maybe she won't,
but she can manage happily ever after
perfectly well by herself.