She sits slumped against the window of her castle tower. Loose strands of golden locks frame her face. Her eyes, transparent blue, stare towards the horizon. What were once green fields, now covered in a thick blanket of snow.


She watches a jack rabbit skitter from tree to tree. Her heart aches for the freedom of that jack rabbit.


She picks up her harp and plays. She sings of bright sunny days, of babbling brooks, of a growing desire she cannot fathom…of freedom.


‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.’


That voice…tears her heart…silences her harp.

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