This is a (very) short story,
first published by yours truly in the Medium publication EwhyE after I found it languishing in an old notebook.
Content warning: refs. to violence/murder.
Also whatever spell my mother put on me to stop me from swearing doesn't
seem to work on fiction, so this is quite sweary - and without *'s for
once!
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| Image by Ruth Archer from Pixabay |
“…Just like some broken princess.”
“So be a broken princess. You think princesses were always meek and mild? That fucking woodland creatures helped them wash the dishes? Ain’t true. Be the knife between their ribs. Be the poison hidden in a ring, tipped genteelly into the right cup, at the right time. Be the weapon of sex and death; sat right at the centre of power and just waiting to strike. Perfect people can’t get the job done. No fucking princess that ever lived was ever perfect. You know how you survive as a royal lady? By being fucked up. Perfect princesses are dead fucking princesses.”
“That’s a lovely thought, thanks so much for that.”
She grabbed the other girl, gently, by the chin, “Be a broken princess,” she said calmly, “and be fucking proud of it. You’ll be the sharpest of blades.”
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Short and sweet (I mean...poisoned 😂)! I'm going to link this in my next blogging reel 🙂.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much! (And lol!) <3
DeleteSwearing can be therapeutic at times! I swear as part of normal vocabulary a lot of times.
ReplyDeleteLol, I can't because my mother. It's only fiction that I can seem to break free of it with ;)
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