September ended abruptly and search of thesauruses went in vain. The scarlets fused in the shades of grey and dreams, palpable enough to be tasted and touched, were broken by the nightmarish reality.

So much for the happy ends, she sits in front of me sobbing away the tears of remorse, hiding her face in her shivery cold fingers. I nod my head in regret.

That could have been a prelude to a fairy tale, she tells me, but the prince turned to a frog even before the magical kiss, croaked and hopped away.

For once, she says, I accepted all the admirations, acknowledged it, was pleased, even smiled and not for once felt offensive. Put all the apprehensions aside and waded through the sea of so-called romance or something of a like, ventured through the strictly prohibited arena of dreams, desires, emotions happiness and fantasies.

It was all so shocking for me, totally unpredictable from the usual predictable self she has. Yet, I could prophesize the inevitable hurt after the humming and dancing, because the plant; where they manufacture the epitome of perfection, princes, having the epithet and all adjectives related to The Charming and the fake persuasive trade-mark of happily-ever-after, was forced to closed down probably because of overdue load shedding, hence, I told her, that she would be doomed to remain the kiss-less frog-less princess with salt-water to be shed on the utter foolishness which would not bring anything good.

I am unable to figure out that how can two exactly opposite thing be similar to Bliss, Companionship and Solitude?
And why is it that the best company she strives for is of herself, of words of colors and pixels, she still sought for companionship? What was that she was unable to give off to herself? Such a disgrace to her singledom for what? A few morsels of admiration and flattery directed towards her, by a random man who would hurl the seemingly-genuine compliments about her and would make her follow the well decided story line.

Honestly speaking, for a split second, when I saw her smiling I also wanted to change my dogma of realism to fantasy. I wanted to carve for pan as well, and to leave the windows of my room ajar hoping that he might come one day.

I am glad I am saved. Perhaps all the ado was about the fall she was destined to face, I hope it has taught her well. I hope she just stops looking.