True Love Waits
It was raining as the princess stared out her tower window over the melting countryside (enchanted forests and sweeping fields) waiting for her prince, her knight, to return from the factory. It was past midnight, and a frown began to distort her perfect, utterly unscarred and unblemished and unbirthmarked face. It was a good thing she hadn’t worn the pumpkin coach ensemble tonight, she thought and snorted. But gracefully – a butterfly could not have snorted more delicately, Venus herself could not have been more seductive. Gracefully, she turned to the window, leaning to the right so she could see past the bushes to the driveway. Her golden hair rested on the chair beside her, a precious metal ladder for her one-and-only. The princess saw headlights, heard a motor, and her heart beat (pitter-patter) inside her breast. The back door slammed shut and a voice called, gruffly.