Friday, 29 June 2007

Whosoever these shall fit (55)

Cinders, whirled around the ballroom like a demented floor polisher by the prince himself. Every woman in the room green with envy. Nothing could spoil it now!
Wait a minute, something's slipping...slipping. Can't dance with knees together - must get out! Waddle to exit quickly! Too late, gone!

Step out, walk on, don't look back!