Not a fairytale

In the forest there was a girl. She was dressed in purple and she thought she was a princess. A princess who could never get dirty. So she carefully wound her way around branches reaching out to touch her purpleness, over rocks that would bite her sandal-clad feet, causing her to stumble into the branches, across roots that would trip her and send her crashing down to the earth, to the dirt that would deface her pretty purple shorts set. In the forest there was a girl who should not be there.


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