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Eyes so Blue 2.0/ Trying to find one's inner writer #2


One upon a time...

Publisher: "Seriously? Once upon a time?! What are you writing? A freaking fairytale?!"
Me: "Why not?"
Publisher: "Fairytales don't sell."
Me: "Since when?"
Publisher: "The 17th century." (¬_¬)
Me: -______________________-"
Publisher: "Give me some action. Grab me by my balls."
Me: "I prefer not..."
Publisher: "Stop taking things litteraly! Now go and write me a bestseller."


MIDNIGHT MASQUERADE

1856. It's the annual masquerade at the Abalone Mansion. People wear their finest party outfits. They've put on their most decorated masks. Everywhere you look, there is laughter and fun.
The ballroom is filled with music. People are dancing. This is the best night ever.

Some guests are standing near the punch.
"He sure has some excellent booze," Puss in Boots hiccups.
"Let's drink to that!" one of Mary's little lambs laughs.

A bunch of old women are gossiping in the back.
The lady in black sneers: "I heard he got married abroad... with a foreign orphane!"
"How outrageous!" they all say.
"I heard she's a peasants' daughter," the one in orange slanders.
All the women are shocked: "How does he dare?! Upperclass don't marry peasants!"

The host is walking among the guests. "Charles, have you seen my beautiful wife?" he asks.
The butler responds: "No sir, I haven't seen her."

Meanwhile in the Scarlet Room...
The lady with the black lace gloves hands over a glass of juice. "Drink this, dear. You look a bit pale."
"Thank you very much. You're so kind to me," Snow White smiles.

She drinks the punch. Her head starts to spin.
"What did you give me?" the host's wife panics.
The lady with the black gloves laughs:"Something I made specially for you, dear. A bit of juice, some sugar.... and my all time favourite: arsenic. Now, burn in hell, you filthy foreign slut!"

For the record: I'm not xenofobic, but people in those days kinda were. Everyone who wasn't born and raised in their home town was considered as "foreign" and therefore "evil"... Except if you were a rich white male aristocrat, then you were considered as "husband material" for the local daughters. Al-

Publisher: "BORING! Move on with the story!" -throws popcorn-
Me: (¬_¬)


Where were we? Oh yeah.




(image found at: www.pinterest.com)


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