It was midnight.

She knew.

The clock struck twelve 

Undoing the spell.

All night she danced and danced

With that handsome man

Prince. Rich. Gentleman.

She had not come for romance

Just a day off that is all.

All she wanted was a break.

But time was up

The clock hand said so

She liked that evening

Her blue silk dress

A pool of soft, tight around her body

A pretty woman. In a pretty gown

Her hair, usually a tangle of blonde unkempt

Now a bun with pretty fringes dangling down

A new pair of earrings, sparkle and shimmer as she twirls

A new set of shoes. She saw glass ones but liked the blue ballet ones better.

She liked it.

At home she swirled and twirled

And saw difference.

Difference from usual, tight jeans, baggy t-shirts and sneakers.

It was a transformation.

But of course she loved the original much, much more.

So she ran.

The clock struck twelve.

The dress got too tight for comfort.

The handsome man checking out her cleavage

The almost tripping on too much skirt, incidents

The earrings too sparkly

The sneakers being missed.

So she left, the man wanting more.

Wanting not only dance but to make love

Chased her.

But she did not turn back.

The beads of sweat dropped like snow from forehead melting on her breasts.

She ran till she reached home.

Ripped off the now drenched dress from her near suffocated body

Intricate lace brassiere tossed out

Red marks on feet massaged

Make-up removed

Earrings returned to velvet cushion

She in panties and slip

Comfort. Finally.

Me. Finally.

Took out a book from the over flowing magic filled book shelf.

It was 'Cinderella'.

Her assignment due tomorrow.

So night lamp on. Laptop open. 

She began to read. And ripped the pages apart in her words.