What happens when the hurt is too much and can’t be born, not really, and yet can’t be acknowledged for concern of others? What happens when Rapunzel reaches the end and plants the seeds of giant thorn bushes for an acre in every direction of her ivory tower? What happens when she slams shut the door and nails it closed forever; when she cuts down the stairs when she is at the top of her gleaming tower and then hacks off her golden hair, tossing it into the dark abyss?
Of course she won’t starve to death because the maidens never do in fairy stories. Instead, like the Lady of Shallot, she will cast her gaze on the living outside world through the medium of a cold looking glass, never to glance into the eyes of another living being again. Or will she? Can a dead heart revive? Can a shattered soul come to life again?
Is playing around with ideas when I should be working, but haz a cat draped around my neck and he is too happy to evict.