"Hidden in a deep foist, there lived a beutiful lady and a very hansom prince. But the beutiful lady lived far, far away..."
Thus begins the first of my writing experiments. I ran across it in an ancient notebook of mine. I could not have been more than six years old, but even then, the idea of a 'hansom prince' and a 'beutiful lady' was appealing to my little mind. Isn't it funny how every fairy tale involves a romance? Little girls are brought up on it - on waiting for their handsome, charming prince, and isn't he always a prince, to transform them with a kiss. To wake them from the blissful sleep of childhood into the supposedly blissful dream of the grownup world. That line stands solitary on the page, but amid the childish drawings of ballerinas, contains mystery, romance, and tragedy. Vague concepts merely passing through a little girls head. Vague concepts that never should have dawned until years later.