Rapunzel

It's all lies. Well, bits of it are true, but mostly it's lies. Although the part about my father stealing herbs is all true. Word to the wise; don't eat weird plants when you're pregnant. That pithy piece of advice could save your offspring a world of pain.

Anyway, I was never locked in a witch's tower, that's a load of goat-hair. Sure I was trapped, but only in my own room. Have you ever tried to go out with fifty miles of hair trailing behind you? It's like wearing an anchor. We couldn't hire enough footmen to carry it all. It got so bad that getting to the wardrobe became a herculean effort involving mountaineering equipment. Eventually I just lobbed it all out the window.

We tried cutting it but it kept growing. I'm not talking inch increments here, I'm talking six feet every six minutes. I am seriously hirsute. Where's the witch with the dodgy apples when you need her? What I wouldn't give for a long nap and prince charming ending. Sleeping Beauty? Don't get me started.

Speaking of princes, there wasn't one. You know what happened? A drunken village lad, spurred on by his mates, decided to climb the braid I'd tossed out the window earlier. He was fifteen with a face like a cow-pat. Had to post sentries after that.

All in the past now. Should have seen the state of my hair after a month in the roses. The smell doesn't bear speaking of. Anyway, a girl's got to secure her future. There was no prince for me. So I swapped the guards for a hundred weavers and now I'm the largest fabric merchant in all the land. For the softest cloth and thickest weave; you can't do better than a bolt of Rapunzel's.

Words: 300

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