Mati and Rory

Time to write!

Matilda and Gregory were best friends, and were, as most boy-girl best friends turn out to be, at least slightly in love with one another. Of course, nothing could be so simple as to allow them to merely court and then have an eventual happy marriage. For, as is so often the case, Gregory was not of the same social class as Matilda. And, in keeping with the cliche, Matilda was in fact the daughter of an important town official who would never dream of giving up his only daughter to a cobbler's apprentice of unknown origin.

Matilda had become Gregory's friend partly because they were of such different social statuses. As a Counselman's daughter, she found herself attending many different parties, conventions, and other social events. At each of these events it was the expectation that she would be dressed fabulously and shoes were no exception. Her father's wealth meant that Matilda rarely had to leave the manor where she lived, so when she was to have new shoes made, or old shoes mended, or a certain pair of shoes slightly changed and dyed another color to match a new dress, the cobbler and his apprentice would pay her a call at home.

Gregory and Matilda had been nine and eight years old, respectively, the first time they'd met. At this time, Gregory, an orphan who had already spent many years learning his place, had an acute awareness of the class difference between them, but Matilda was ignorant of any such differentiation between them. After being greeted by the cobbler, Max Stuffins, she'd dropped him a quick curtsy then said, "My name's Matilda, but I like Mati. Who are you?"
"Gregory, Miss Matilda," Gregory had murmured shyly.
"No, I don't like Gregory at all." Matilda had stated, shaking her head. "That sounds like a butler's name."
"Is there another name that would please you, Miss Matilda?" Gregory asked, a little taken aback.
"Rory. It's like Gregory, but much nicer." The way Matilda said it was very matter of fact. She continued, "And I think we shall be great friends."
When Matilda Merriworth declared something, it almost always was so. And so Mati and Rory were great friends. It was that way, because she thought it should be.

oh the suspense...?

Ever After

Time to write!

Today's prompt is to write a scene from a fairy tale from the point of view of a nontraditional character. This could be a fun one to revisit multiple times, because twists on already created stories are sort of my specialty.

I don't even know why you want to hear this stupid story. I mean, everybody already knows it. It's all about stupid Cinderella, so why are you asking me? Why don't you go ask her?
She'll tell you. She'll tell you how, like, I'm just this huge brat and that me and Drizzy always were out to get her. The truth is, she just needs to learn to grow a spine!
But I guess if you are just going to sit there and wait for me to tell you what happened when the prince came, I might as well just tell you. I can't really go back to bed and get my beauty sleep until you leave anyway.

So it was the morning after the ball. I was exhausted, and honestly not in the best mood. Drizzy had been going on and on ALL NIGHT LONG rambling about the Prince and how he had smiled at her. Which is so whatever. It was totally obvious that he wasn't interested in her. He was all wrapped up in the mystery chick, which is just so typical. Of course, obviously, that girl was Cinderella. And I'm not as dumb as you all think. I would've recognized her right off, but after only getting a stiff formal  bow from the Prince I was like, Well so much for that option. Now I'm at a party. Let's hit the royal open bar. Not very responsible, but whatever. You'd do it to if you were rejected that way. Charming? Forgive the unlady-like snort, but sooo not.

I'm like way off topic now though. Back to what I was saying. That morning that the Prince showed up on our porch like, "Hey I got this shoe, it fits my one true love, let's see if it's yours," I was not feeling my best. I had a hangover, I hadn't slept well, and I totally knew that shoe wasn't mine. Still, if I had to go downstairs and try the stupid shoe on before the Prince would leave, then I might as well see if it fit. I mean, like, way more than one girl has the same shoe size right? You don't walk into the Shoe City downtown and go to the special rack marked with your name cause you're the only girl with shoes that size. Although, that would be totally awesome, and a tad ideal.

By the time I got downstairs Drizzy had already tried the shoe and was sobbing in the corner because it hadn't fit. I looked at the Prince like Seriously? You want me to try this on? You sure weren't jazzed to see me last night, so why would you even want me to attempt this?

Well obviously the shoe didn't fit. It isn't my fault that Daddy's feet were really big. Anyway, Cinderella deserves the Prince. I mean, he's the one who decided he was obsessed and wanted to get married after one night of dancing, but didn't even recognize her when she came in to try on the shoe.

So like, best of luck to them both, good riddance to her and her whining. And the mice in the house. That was getting seriously disgusting.

And even though Drizzy thinks her life is basically over because our stepsister gets to marry a prince, I'm kinda relieved. Cause when I get married, the guy darn better know what I look like regardless of my shoe size.