At the Twelfth toll: A previous letter to Mr. H

It’s midnight and Cinderella is still dancing. She cares naught anymore that her dress has turned to rags. Her true Prince wouldn’t either.

Why as a society do we put on a facade to gain a fleeting false sense of happiness? What is the point of faking what we are? Would Cinderella truly have lived happily ever after if she hadn’t rushed home from that party?

The heroes of our story are those true to the grit and grime… as well as glitz. Of the ones who are not afraid to step into the shadow from time to time.

You see, what they won’t tell you (lest you know their secret) is that Cinderella glitters more in her tattered rags. But it’s a sparkle that only a true Prince can appreciate.

Dear suitors of Christmas Past & Present… when you encounter your own version of this modern day fantasy girl, I implore you to continue dancing after midnight. Fore without this, the fantasy may not be able to coexist.

Regale in the true beauty of a world ridden in color and of grey.

 

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