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Margaret, The Prince, A Red Apple, And The Witch.
There was a terrible ice storm in Margaretville today; the ice was as big as golf balls. The wind was very traitorous, and it was 15 degrees outside. Princess Margaret was up in her tower, in her father’s castle, brushing her long golden flowing hair. Which shinned like a star in the night sky. It was getting rather late, so Margaret decided to head off to bed. She laid her royal head down on the royally made pillows and bed, especially for her. She drifted off into a deep sleep as the sound of ice beating the castle decreased slowly. Margaret dreamed of the day her Prince Charming would come. He’d be riding a white stallion, and be dressed in the finest threads. When morning came around, there was a small puddle of drool on her pillow. Where Margaret had obviously been dreaming of her Prince Charming’s well chiseled body, and gorgeous blonde locks. When she stepped on to the ice-cold floor, chills filled her body. Then she noticed the basket of fresh fruit. Juicy red apples, nice round oranges, and beautifully purple grapes. Margaret immediately picked up her favorite, a juicy red apple. The first bite was so delicious, until a strange numbing feeling filled her body. She collapsed on her feather bed and her eyes began to shut. Out the corner of her eye, she saw the Town Witch. Margaret heard the Witch whisper, “You’re castle and town will be mine!”
© Copyright 2011 Amy Daniel (ald94 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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