Sundays with Scheherazade

Cinderella's Shoe

10 Cinderella's Shoe

9 am, 60 Sundays and a day, New York Luxury Apartment

Abigael awakened, alone in her sumptuous bedframe, laden with a weighted dark down comforter and 1000 threadcount sheets. Had the past multitude of weeks been a passing fancy, a mere wish, an ephemeral, short-lived dream? She donned her scarlet heron-printed Japanese silk bathrobe, padding softly in her slippers to the kitchen and the surrounding alcove. It seemed far too eerily quiet after all those many evenings spent in the peaceful-yet-sparkling company of a magical, raven-haired feminine beauty.

She recalled fragments of the evening before—the invitation to share her bed—Mel's questioning eyes. Are you sure? They seemed to say. She had beckoned again, and Mel had finally entered her bedchamber at her explicit behest, slowly walking toward her own petite shape, dwarfed by the billowing blankets and pillows that threatened to engulf her very form. Having spread the weighted blanket over to Mel, Mel shifted herself so that she was directly aligned with Abigael's body. Abigael could feel the weight of Mel's breasts pressing onto her delicate back, the curved body of her familiar twin soul, the sensitive underside of her knees making contact with Mel's firm kneecaps, enveloped in smooth, silky sienna-colored melanin, as Abigael uttered a soundless gasp. Their feet inexorably linked, their toes curling, linked to each other as if held by an invisible thread, they gave new meaning to the curvature of silver, the very act and art of that which constitutes spooning.

Abigael knew that the Scheherazade contract was fulfilled. Mel was a free agent now, no longer bound to the stipulations and terms that had taken her away from her own family. But then, she rounded the corner and spotted a small brown paper bag on the dining room table that she must have missed in her earlier sleep-deprived haze. Curious, she opened it, removing its contents. The first item was, according to the label attached, "dark chocolate chip banana breakfast bread: warm in oven 200 degrees Fahrenheit for 10 minutes." Abigael smiled; how very kind.

She thought that was it, but as she made to toss the paper bag in the trash bin, she heard a light rattling sound. Intrigued, she brought the bag back to the dining room table, shaking the contents out.

It was, Abigael realized, Mel's Costa Rican blue butterfly ring, with a note attached. "Find Me <3"

She grinned, fishing out Midnight from her bathrobe pocket. Placing the tiny pony on her marble floor, she uttered a few words that she recalled from her childhood. The tiny pony suddenly grew larger, until it was the size and shape of a miniature Palomino. Nickering and neighing softly, its glossy eyes fell upon its mistress.

"Take me to Vera Manor, Midnight."

And so the pony did.

--THE END--