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Tuesday, February 5, 2013

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SNOW, GLASS, APPLES
Neil Gaiman
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I do not know what manner of affaire she is. None of us do. She killed her mother in the birthing, but thats neer enough to account for it.
They call me sharp-witted, but I am far from wise, for all that I foresaw fragments of it, frozen moments caught in pools of water supply or in the cold glass of my mirror. If I were wise I would not have tried to change what I saw. If I were wise I would have killed myself before ever I encountered her, before ever I caught him.
Wise, and a witch, or so they said, and Id seen his face in my dreams and in reflections for all my conduct: sixteen years of dreaming of him before he reined his provide by the bridge that dawning, and asked my name. He helped me onto his high horse and we rode unitedly to my little cott era, my face buried in the gold of his hair. He asked for the best of what I had; a kings right, it was.
His beard was red-bronze in the morning light, and I knew him, not as a king, for I knew nobody of kings then, but as my love. He took all he treasured from me, the right of kings, but he returned to me on the following day, and on the night after that: his beard so red, his hair so gold, his eyes the blue of a summer sky, his skin suntanned the gentle brown of ripe wheat.

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His daughter was only a child: no more than five years of age when I came to the palace. A portrait of her dead mother hung in the princesss tower room; a tall woman, hair the colouring of dark wood, eyes nut-brown. She was of a different blood to her wan daughter.
The girl would not eat with us.
I do not know where in the palace she ate.
I had my own chambers. My married man the king, he had his own rooms also. When he wanted me he would send for me, and I would go to him, and joy him, and take my pleasure with him.
One night, several months after I was brought to the palace, she came to my rooms. She was six. I was embroidering by lamplight, squinting my eyes against the lamps...If you want to get a skillful essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com



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