Image how different fairy tales would be had Cinderella been middle-aged. A fit, trim, well-preserved middle-aged 
lady, in shape because her nasty stepsisters ate all the fatty food and she was left nibbling some leafy green veggies and the odd piece of broccoli. A rocking body because of years of cleaning house and washing windows.
But middle-aged.
Would Prince C. still try to fit the shoe over that unwashed, knobbly foot? Or would he depart for softer flesh, dewy eyes and “yeah, like … ” girls?
One thing I know for sure: she would have been wearing sensible shoes, not glass stilettos.
* * *
I flirted with the muse for many years. “One day I will write and then I will astonish the whole world.”
I did astonish – myself.
Because the muse has gone off to support two other people in my life who actually wrote stuff. A lot of it. Often.
Bitch.
But I have baked a whole batch of cookies and have placed the milk right next to the laptop and I am warming up the seat in anticipation of her inspiring song.
Oh wait. That’s Father Christmas.
Wrong drink.
Wonder what she would like?
I think my muse would not be a tea-and-biscotti lady.
And no ways is she is Sex-on-the-beach-or-lawn-or-whatever cocktail kind of chick.
She isn’t a whiskey-straight-up dame either.
Possibly a freshly-squeezed-watermelon woman.
… time will tell.
(Image: “Shoes” by Michael Cory, flickr)
