You must've heard how Aurora had awoken from her cursed sleep through the kiss of true love, how Jack had cut the beanstalk and owned the riches he'd always wished for, how Hansel and Gretel had pushed the witch into the blazing fires of her own oven and escaped her clutches. The stories and myths and legends were passed on from one's lips to another's, heard from the South and traveled North, carried on by hundreds of generations.
Tongues had twisted the tales, however, and what would have been gruesome and atrocious were transformed into stories where love begets love and good conquers evil: stories fit for bedtime, for children.
But now, I am going to tell you one of the many tales distorted by time. A story about the famed Cinderella-how she lost everything she had and was left in shattered pieces, how she rose up form her own wreckage, and how she had come to realize the bitter truths of the universe.
All because of a glass slipper . . .
. . . that didn't fit.