The Fall of the Fairytale

Waterford is Writing

Tabitha tore at the neat parcel in her little hands, her fingers clumsily pulling at the wrapping. It truly took all of the self control I had to stop myself speeding up the process, just so I could see her eyes light up and dance, as mine had done thirty years ago.
It had been my Sixth birthday and the sun had beaten down all afternoon. My mind had shut out the chatter and the squeals,all I had wanted was that one parcel. I knew that the pale pink wrapping with the curled silken ribbon on top protected the most wondrous contents. I knew, as my mother had known before me, that to receive that lone parcel meant that you were finally ready.
My protective instincts were so strong, overpowering almost as I watched Tabitha’s small frame with baited breath. What she was about to uncover was immense. More responsibility…

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