My Cardboard Balcony

Brambles by Belinda Roddie A prince was blinded on a wicked thicket, and the anemia in his veins shrieked out a brand new epiphany - orange words on white lips, the pink flushed out like brandy from a wide-eyed flask which glassy spectacles are broken. Life is not always fair.

The staff had a jewel upon its head - a large jewel in the shape of a crescent moon, pounded out thin with red and gold shimmering in its folds and indents. Like malleable paper painted and made to shine in a moonless winter night. She gripped the wood firmly and let it dance upon her palm. This was her stave now. Her mother was dead.