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We congregated at the top of the stairs leading to the dance floor; my mother, other sister, and I.
We watched the whirlpool of young women. Their dresses swirled. Their faces were concealed.
Among them the gentlemen prowled with smiles like sharks.
Cinderella and the Prince twirled in the center. She laughed – wild as the ocean. Oblivious. She didn't know a storm was coming for her.
We had to be that storm.
"We must do something."
"Yes."
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Sister | A Cinderella Retelling
FantasyShe picks up the pliers. "This is going to hurt." --- A feminist Cinderella retelling
