I don't know why but my sleeping habits have upended themselves. I'm not waking up early enough in the morning any longer to go to the gym and to write a post here. This morning I didn't even make it to the gym. At this rate soon I will just keep sleeping. Some might wonder where I am.
I did recently split a nice, juicy apple with a farmer's wife. She ate the white innards and I was left with the glowing red skin. She was the same woman that gave me the poison comb, and the unbreathing bodice.
Magic mirror in my hand, who is reflecting as drowned in the flood, lips as coarse as sand, and blood as red as blood?
When I awake, before I yet open my eyes, morning skin as as morning snow, I sometimes hear the sound of seven dwarves rustling around me. Each time, upon my arising, the articles in the room have grown smaller, and seven naked dwarves are scrambling for their lives.
Now, all that awaits me is suspended animation, a nice comfortable coffin, and a princess to come save me with an agreeably kneeling kiss.
She'll go to the ball afterwards, where the old wretched-haired witch will be forced to wear the glowing hot iron shoes and dance and dance, until... she drops, and burns.
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