“I release you.”
After centuries, she drops the poison pomegranate. Her stiff, tingled fingers feel freedom and an urge to cling further to the fatal fruit.
The princess remembers running and goes to where her palace once stood.
She finds a crypt nestled in the ancient ruins of her once home.
Horrified, she reads the names of her loved ones etched into the bluish-gray stone.
The princess is alone in a homeland offering no hospitality or kindness.
Her classical, provincial beauty does not challenge or tantalize, so men ignore her.
Her stilted speech and regal reserve appear as arrogance, so women spite her.
Society removed chivalry’s feeding tube a long time ago. Its ghost is not welcome.
Monarchy and feudalism are passe.
What is a princess in a land gutting out and discarding trapping traditions and vacant values?
She prays.
“Please rescue me. I can’t exist in this world alone. Please send me someone to delivery me from all this disdain and death. I need a connection to this world, or I shall surely die.”
Divine intervention.
A green eyed, blind frog hops to the princess’ aid.
“Princess, I have waited a long time for you. I am a prince under a spell. If you kiss me, we will be forever connected. I shall love you in a way no man has ever loved you before.”
Grateful and thrilled to find her magical mate, she closes her eyes and kisses him gently contracting genital warts.
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