If I was

bones

I would be enough

If I ate

less

I would be enough

If I walked

more

I would be enough

If I worked

harder

I would be enough

If I was

perfect

I would be enough

If I controlled

everything

I would be enough

if i ate enough

maybe i wouldn't

feel so

empty.

A prince, dressed in fine clothing, walked around,preparing for an evening ball. “Prince Milo, are you ready for the evening ball?” A young maid walked past him, balancing a tray on her small hand.

“Why, yes, Helena.” He smiled. “And you are invited, you may put away your work clothes and slip into a ballgown.” His shiny boots clicked along the tiled floors.

“That is very kind of you, Prince Milo.” The maid stammered. “Yet, I must serve the guests.”

Milo stopped and turned. “Nonesense! You must have time to enjoy yourself.” He looked at the maid. “Don’t worry about your tasks.”

“Yes, sir.” She smiled, her cheeks grew rosey and she rushed to the kitchen.

Milo stopped at the kitchen door and called, “All of you! Take the night off, enjoy the ball!”

His father, the king, appeared. “Milo! What on earth is happening here?”

“I’m giving all the servants a chance to enjoy the ball.” Milo straightened his coat. “They need time off.”

“My dear, Milo... Your kindness and generosity might be the death of you.” The king croaked. “You do know that attitude will not be appropriate for a king. A soft king, does not make a good king.” He spoke firmly.

“Father, you know I don’t want to become king.” Milo narrowed his dark eyes. “I plan on finding a wife, settling down, and working elsewhere.”

“There will be no such talk in this palace!” The king’s voice boomed through the hall, startling the busy servants. The king lowered his voice. “You, as the eldest son in the royal family, will be king. There will be no argument concerning this matter. It is settled.” The king walked away.

Milo huffed and slowly walked throughout the palace, his thoughts swirling like a tornado in his mind.

~*~

The ballroom quickly filled with young women and even some men arrived. Swirling ballgowns and sparkling colors filled the room. The prince stood off to the side, his face was heated up, his father had seen that the servants stayed working. The servants moved busily, refilling plates with small desserts, sandwiches, and other small foods.

“Darling, Milo.” The queen glided up to Milo. “Why don’t you go to dance with one of the ladies? I’m sure many would be happy to dance with the prince.” Her hair was piled high and she wore a shimmering, purple ballgown.

“Mother, I’d rather not.” Milo forced a smile to a passing lady. “I’m perfectly content here.”

“Oh, Milo.” His mother laughed and clucked her tongue before being whisked away into the crowd to socialize.

Milo sat and watched as several couples danced, others ate, still, yet others talked and laughed together. Suddenly, a gorgeous woman stepped into the ballroom. Her blonde hair shone in the lighting, her blue eyes sparkled like sapphires, and her blue dress glittered. Milo swallowed a lump in his throat, the young woman who had just stepped foot into his palace was beautiful! He slowly made his way towards her, everyone at least glanced at the newcomer. Her head dipped and her cheeks turned pink as she walked through the crowd of people.

Prince Milo stepped up to her. “Greetings, Ma’am.” He smiled at her. “I’m Prince Milo.” He reached a hand out to her. “Would you like to dance with me?”

She smiled shyly and placed her gloved hand on his. “I’d be honored to dance with you.”

He led her to a clearing in the ballroom and they danced together. After a time, Milo led her to a table piled with foods. The time passed quickly, suddenly the clock struck eleven. The young lady gasped and started running to leave the ballroom. She gathered up her long dress and ran as fast as she could. She slipped on the steps outside and her glass slipper fell off, but she scrambled away. “Wait!” Milo called, pushing through the doors. “I never caught-” His voice became softer. “your name.” He sighed sadly as he saw she was nowhere in sight.

The girl hid in the bushes, her ballgown gone, she was now dressed in rags. She slid off her other glass slipper and hurried away into the night.

Milo turned to go back inside, his heart heavy. He met the loveliest lady in all the land, yet she hurried away. Something glittered in the moonlight on the steps. He stooped down and picked it up, studying it. It was a small glass slipper, he glanced up and clutched it. An idea formed in his mind.

~*~

The next morning the prince went out through all the land to search for the beautiful young woman. He brought the glass slipper with him, figuring that whoever it fit perfectly, he would take that woman and marry her. The prince and his servant, rode through the land. As the evening drew near, the prince had one place left to see. Prince Milo stopped his horse outside the cottage and had his servant stay outside.

He knocked on the door and took a step back. A woman, with black hair and piercing green eyes, opened the door. “May I help-” She stopped short. “Oh! Prince Milo! What may I do for you?” She asked.

Milo explained of all that had happened and finished with her cottage being the final one to visit. “Come in, come in.” She swung the door open. “Tessa! Beatrice!” She called.

Two girls stepped towards the door. One had green eyes and blonde hair, the other had brown eyes and dark hair. They both resembled the woman who had answered the door.

The girls giggled nervously and whispered. The woman’s eyes shone as she explained why the prince had stopped by. The one girl tried to squeeze her foot into the slipper. Her face turned red as she pulled her foot away. The blonde girl, Beatrice, lept up and pushed her sister out of the chair. “Let me try!” She screeched.

Tessa slid off the chair and stood off to the side with her arms crossed. Beatrice tried to push her foot into the glass slipper, her brow furrowed as she tried to make it fit. She grunted and pushed her foot harder than ever, yet nothing worked. The prince held the glass slipper, disappointment shrouded his face. The sisters now stood next to one another. “I best be on my way.” He sighed and walked towards the door.

“Wait!” A soft voice called from a shadowed corner. Milo turned around, he saw a young woman her blonde hair was braided, she wore a clean, but old looking dress, and her blue eyes were wide. “May I try on the slipper?” She asked.

Milo nodded and motioned for her to sit. He did not yet recognize her. Tessa sneered at the young woman. “You, a servant, try on the shoe?” She laughed.

Beatrice laughed also. “You’re a servant, not a princess, Cind.”

The woman ignored them and tried on the glass slipper, it fit her perfectly! She brought her eyes to meet the prince’s. Her hand slid into her pocket and she pulled out an identical slipper to that one. She slipped it on her other foot and stood.

The prince stood, shocked. This woman, standing before him, was the same one he danced with just the night before! He grasped her hand and gazed into her sparkling blue eyes. “Would you be my wife?” He asked.

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “I’d be honored.” He led her out the door to his horse.

Tessa, Beatrice, and their mother stood watching in the doorway. It was obvious the two girls were jealous. Milo stopped before grabbing his horse’s reins. “I never caught your name.” He pushed a strand of hair from her eyes.

She giggled. “It’s Cinderella. That’s not my real name, but it’s what my step sisters and step mother called me.”

He swung onto his saddle and helped her up beside him. “I’m Prince Milo.” He gathered up the reins. “It’s nice to meet you, Cinderella.”

Prince Milo and Cinderella got married. The prince got his wish, he never did become king. Instead he moved to the country side, he and Cinderella bought a cottage and raised a family. They lived happily ever after.

The End.

This is the story of Little Red Riding Hood. She was the daughter of the Woodcutter and his wife. A precocious child, fiercely independent, her parents often worried about her long trek through the woods, alone, refusing a companion or weapon. "Surely, I am safe," she insisted to them, "I have no need for violence or chasing off bandits. We live in such a safe neighborhood, and the people in our village have known me from birth. I am safe!" Her mother would shake her head, and her father would insist, "The woods are apart from our home. Our village may be safe, but the wider world holds many dangers. If you won't heed our caution, then at least wear this, so that we may see you as walk along the path." From his bag he produced a bright red cape as vibrant as blood and brighter than the setting sun. "Father!" she exclaimed, "It is a beautiful accessory! While i know I am safe, I think I will still wear such a beautiful garment."

And so she fastened the cape about her shoulders and twirled for her parents to see, "You, see, Mama and Papa! Now I'm definitely the safest I will ever be!" Grabbing up her basket of cakes and bread, she kissed them both goodbye and headed down the path to Granny's cottage in the woods. She waved to her neighbors, shouted hello to her friends, and all the world seemed to be her oyster. Whistling to herself, her gait was confident and sure as she trekked down the slowly darkening path as the tightly knit trees began to block out the sun.

The canopy overhead rustled ominously, a cold breeze lifting the edges of Little Red Riding Hood's cloak. Shivering, she clasped it closer to her body, "Oh my! There must be a storm on the horizon. Thank goodness for the cloak, else my bones would be chilled." She continued her happy tune, whistling away, not noticing the paired whistling of the forest birds had also gone strangely quiet. Only the sounds of her steps and the lilting of her tune penetrated the darkening wood around her. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, "Such a beautiful day for a stroll! So quiet and serene, it's like I wandered into a painting." The path she followed went suddenly steeply downward as it entered the densest part of the woods. Little Red Riding Hood stepped lightly and confidently from tree root to tree root, unafraid of the regularly-travelled path. With the last light of the sun sponged away into dim, dark light, Little Red Riding Hood burst into a silly song, "A light! So bright! The sun hides itself away! Now night! No fright! The darkness won't scare me away!"

Giggling, she reached the bottom of the ravine. The ground turned muddy and mucky, sucking at her shoes. Lifting her cloak to keep the edges from getting dirty, she splashed and sucked along happily, laughing at her shoes and the absolute mess her mother would never approve of. At that time, during her leaping and splashing, she spotted a little off the path a patch of wildflowers. Purples and yellows and pinks all seemed to call out to her. Clapping her hands and hurrying to the patch, she knelt carefully onto the ground, "Oh my!" she exclaimed, "I don't want to be late, but Granny would love a fresh bouquet." She opened her basket of cakes and bread, then began to pluck and grab up an assortment of the beautifully colored flowers.

"Ahem!" came a voice. Little Red Riding Hood looked around herself. There was no one near her. "Probably the wind," she said to herself dismissively, "No need to be afraid." She continued to pick flowers haphazardly, when the voice came again, "Young lady, I insist you stop." Turning around she spotted him near a tree, hiding from view, "I daresay, who are you to tell me what to do?" Little Red Riding Hood stood to her full height, her hands on her hips, "I am the Woodcutter's daughter, and I walk this path all the time to reach my Granny's house. I can do as I like." A little old man stepped from behind the tree, "Young lady, I meant no offense, but you are pulling up my garden. I had with me a dear wolf, a friendly companion, who protected me as I, too, travelled this path through the woods. What you are pulling up are the flowers I carefully planted to cover his grave."

Little Red Riding Hood threw back her head and laughed, "An old man and a wolf? That would be a sight to see! Well, tosh to your garden, old man. I, alone, have walked this path many times, and I have never seen you about." The old man held his walking stick, digging it into the ground, "There are many things that travel along this path, young lady. Creatures, people, and even the spirits of the wood. It isn't right to try to claim it as your own." She threw her head back and laughed again at the man, "Wolfman! That is what I'll call you! I will go back to my father and tell him of your audacity and lies. But first, I must take these treats to my Granny. She must be so worried about me by now." 

The little old man hobbled forward, "Young Lady, your attitude is most foul. I will follow you to your Granny's, and I will have a word to her about your behavior." Little Red Riding Hood saw the little old man reaching for her arm, so she swung with her basket, knocking him to the ground. "Oof!" he howled in pain, "You devil of a child! Help me up! I think I've broken my leg!" Little Red Riding Hood ran away from the man, leaving her basket and flowers behind. His shouts for help followed her through the gloomy wood. She came to her Granny's tiny cottage, and she pounded on the door, "Granny! Granny! I have been attacked!" There was a scuffle and shuffle from inside the home, when the front door burst open to reveal her aging, poor Granny, "What is it, child?" she asked in a hurry, "Who has attacked you?" "The Wolfman!" Little Red Riding Hood shouted, "The Wolfman came to me in the woods and threatened to hurt me! He had fire in his eyes like he meant to kill me! He stole my basket of bread and flowers, and I barely escaped with my life!" "Come in, dear child," her Granny said in a rush. She ushered the child in and slammed the door shut, locking it tight. 

"It was awful," Little Red Riding Hood said, tears streaming from her eyes, "I've walked that path thousands of times, and I've never had that happen before." Her Granny busied herself, making a hot cup of cocoa and checking her grand-daughter for injuries, "My word, child, you don't have a scratch on you. Didn't you say you were attacked?" "Well," started Little Red Riding Hood, mulling over her words, "The Wolfman reached out and tried to grab me. I swung and hit him with my basket." Granny nodded her head, "Very quick thinking of you, my dear. My word, child, it must have been terrifying to hear him threaten you harm." "Well," said the little girl, shuffling her feet, "He didn't exactly say he would hurt me. But he said he would come after you, too." "Oh, dear!" spluttered Granny, "What a foul and perverse creature! To threaten a child in such a way and to say they would hurt the ones you love."  Granny paced her small kitchen, "We must phone the police. We must phone you father. My word, child, do you remember what he looked like? You said his eyes were terrifying and filled with bloodlust." Little Red Riding Hood fumbled her cup of cocoa, not looking in her Granny's eye, "He was a very angry old man. He told me all types of lies and stories, and when I told him I didn't believe him and shoo away, he leapt at me to grab me." Granny plopped into her armchair, fanning her face, "Oh, my sweet, dear child. What horror you have faced. Such perversion! Such sin! How did you manage to escape such a terrible man?" Little Red Riding Hood mumbled through her lips, barely above a whisper, "i hit him with my basket, and he fell down and broke his leg." At this, Granny leapt up from her armchair and dashed to the phone that was older than she, "I must dial the police! We may catch this pervert, yet!"

The police combed the forest path, following Little Red Riding Hood's begrudged directions. It was barely even dusk when they found the little old man fallen on the ground, trying to claw his way home. At first, he was relieved to be carefully lifted and assisted, but his relief turned into bewilderment as a police officer slapped a pair of handcuffs on him. Twisting in pain and confusion, the little old man demanded an explanation, and he received none. He didn't know his crime until it was told to him the next morning as he awoke in a jail cell. Little Red Riding Hood's father and mother were in existential pain. "I should have been there!" shouted her father, "I would have buried my axe in his head!" "No, I should have been there!" shouted her mother, "I would never let her red cape out of my sight!" And in between them, cradled by her weeping parents, Little Red Riding Hood sat in quiet anguish, wondering why she didn't speak up. Why wasn't she saying something? All well, she thought. Surely, this would teach the little old man a lesson on how to treat people. He was a rotten, angry old man, anyway. 

At his trial, the little old man pleaded with the judge, "I insist, your honor, I have never harmed a fly! The young lady was defiling my garden, and I was shooing her away!" The judge shook his head, "And why did you threaten the child?" The old man blustered, "I told her I would go to her grandmother to tell of her awful behavior." The judge shook his head, "And why did you attempt to attack the child?" The old man looked pleadingly, "I was going to grab her arm, so she couldn't get away." The court gasped and a lady in the back fainted. The little old man searched desperately for an ally, "Please, I meant no harm to the child! Yes, it was wrong to try to grab her arm, but I insist I did it only to escort her to her grandmothers and have her disciplined." The judge shook his head, "And why did you think it was your duty to scold a child who is not your kin?" The little old man beat his fists against his knees, "She was wrecking my dear wolf's burial place! I planted flowers and paid respects! This little devil child was tearing it apart and ruining it!" The court gasped again. The judge banged his gavel for order. Once again, he shook his head, "Could you not have explained yourself better? Could you not have gone to the girl's parents? Could you be more merciful to an innocent child's mistake? Could you not have shown more mercy to someone who barely has enough reason to understand the world around her?" 

"Guilty!" Shouted the crowd! "Arrest him! Life in prison! Execute the baby snatcher!" The mob of people became more and more aggravated. The judge banged his gavel several more times. "Order! There will be order in my court! Now, it's obvious to me that since there was only one witness to the crime, there can only be one person to confirm or deny this man's plea." The judge pointed down from his podium towards Little Red Riding Hood, "You, child. We need your yay or nay. Did this man attack you and try to harm you?" All eyes were on the little girl, a pin drop could have been heard. Little Red Riding Hood felt her brow begin to sweat and her hands became numb. Surely! All this fuss? All this muss? For a few flowers? Yes, the little old man had tried to grab her, but wasn't she acting unladylike? No! It was his fault for being so rude and telling obvious lies. Saying a wolf would attack her and Granny. Or was he going to attack her? Was Granny there? She couldn't remember! So many people looking at her, the details began to muddle together. Just to make it stop! Make the anger and staring eyes look away! Little Red Riding Hood clamped her eyes shut, but all she could see was the angry little old man reaching for her, bloodlust in his eyes, fangs sprouting from his mouth, claws extending from his fingers, and a howl of fury as he leapt 10 feet towards her. "Yes!" she shouted, "That Wolfman attacked me!"

The crowd leaped up to their feet and shouted for a verdict. How would the little old man pay? How would he suffer for his crime? The judge held up his hands for silence, the gavel being drowned out by the din of voices. The judge, red-faced and surly, pointed at the little old man, "For your crimes against our village, you will be executed for attempted murder of a child!" The crowd in the hall shouted in praise and approval, clapping and cheering. The little old man's eyes rolled back into his head, passing out onto the floor. And Little Red Riding Hood could only stare at his limp frame, wondering what would have happened if everything had gone differently. The little old man was hung from the tree outside city hall at dawn. His body left there to ring testament to any others who would dare attack a small child from the village. Little Red Riding Hood still skipped and traversed the path through the woods to Granny's cottage, a bread knife in her basket. She would whistle and sing through the dark forest, but when she came across the patch of purple and yellow and pink wildflowers, she would become very silent, almost tiptoeing past. The Wolfman had tried to attack her, or was it her fault? The Wolfman would have eaten Granny, or did he just want to talk to her? The Wolfman stole her basket, or did she attack him and then leave him in the dirt? She convinced herself of the narrative she had spun. She retold herself again and again how the little old man deserved what he got. All the details muddled up more and more until all Little Red Riding Hood could remember was the time she saw a wolf leap at her from the dark trees. 

Are you aware of how your tongue sits in your mouth?

Are you aware of that itch on the sole of your foot?

Are you aware of how your nose blocks part of your vision?

Are you aware of how your right hand has never touched your right elbow?

Are you aware that in your eagerness to obtain a certain age, you have forfeited all experiences up to this point?

Can you control what happens the next second? Space could collapse. The earth could explode. Physics could disentegrate.

And you have no power.

None.

Over any of the topics I've mentioned

A quick midnight update has just landed! Here are the highlights.

Bug Fix: Messages

The messages page was showing some deleted/undeleted conversations, which was throwing things out of whack. This should now be fixed.

Delete Conversations

You should now be able to delete conversations on the messages page by hovering over the conversation you want to delete in your inbox.

Bug Fix: Challenge Submissions

The bug preventing new challenge submissions from being made has been fixed. Additionally, you should see proper error messages when trying to publish new posts.

A few other bugs were squashed as well, though they were more rare. Next up we'll be looking at book editing and adding/removing/reordering chapters of books.

If there's something you'd like to see on the beta site, be sure to let us know. And if you haven't had a chance to check it out, you'll find it at beta.theprose.com.

One interesting song I found was a song called “My Time” by bo en. It’s an interesting song I came across in the video game “Omori”. I feel that it captures the feeling of the slow descent of depression as someone begins to slip away from the reality of everything trying to close their eyes and stay within their repressed bubble as their mental state slowly degrades.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=rM9V99VlgrI&list=RDMMrM9V99VlgrI&start_radio=1

Greetings fellow readers and writers. It’s been some time since we last updated Prose. Today we’re excited to provide a peek behind the curtains and give you a glimpse of what we’ve been working on. 

Over the years, as we’ve added features and functionality to Prose, the app and its codebase have become increasingly unwieldy. As such, we decided to reimagine and rebuild Prose from the ground up. It’s still the same site you know and love, insofar as a Toyota Camry is just as much a car as a Porsche 911. 

We’ll have more exciting announcements in the weeks to come; but for now we hope you’ll give the new site a test drive and let us know what you think. You will find the next chapter at beta.theprose.com and we encourage you to share your thoughts at info@theprose.com.

I´m snowboarding. I mean, I don´t know how to, but I´m flying down the mountain all the same. The thrill of the movement, the exhilaration, it all excites me. Sometimes there are obstacles that I need to avoid. I don´t know how to snowboard though, so sometimes I hit them, but that´s alright. I can´t breathe. I couldn´t breathe at the top of the mountain, the air was too thin, but this time it´s different, it isn´t suffocating. This time it is the wind that takes my breath away as I snowboard down this mountain. Part of me never wants this ride to stop, but even more than that I wish to find what is at the bottom of this rock. I´ve been on this mountain for too long. I´m snowboarding, even though I don´t know how. I hit obstacles. That´s ok though, I´m still flying. When I reach the bottom I won´t be afraid of falling anymore. My soul sings. I can´t wait.

An Interesting Turn of Events

It was a gloomy, chilly, windy, gray and all around bleak day. The gray clouds swallowed the normally blue skies of the university. On days like these, most people would stay inside to avoid the mood of the world around them. On the rooftop of one of the buildings, though, sat a boy. He was around 6 feet tall wearing a bright, rainbow-colored shirt. He sat near the edge of the rooftop with a picture in his hands. The picture was simply of the same boy but with an awkward smile. Most people would have seen it and felt embarrassed, embarrassed enough to throw it away but the boy just stared at it blankly. He folded the picture up, put it into his pocket, and began to stand up. He walked to the very edge of the roof and stood there expressionless, the very same face he had made looking at the picture. He stood there for a few seconds before he heard a door open up from behind and what came out was a girl. She ran quickly out of the doorway and caught up to the boy. She was around 5 feet 9 inches wearing a plain gray hoodie and was very sweaty.

“There you are,” she said panting, “I looked all over the University to find you: I looked in the main university building, the dining halls, and even near the city. I even looked in the frickin alleyways and near some of the dumpsters when I found you just sitting up there doing absolutely nothing.”

“I’m sorry but you must have the wrong person,” he said bluntly.

“You are Terry Weaver, right?”

“I am,” he remarked, “but it doesn’t seem that I know you.”

“You don’t know me? I’m literally in your physics class. We don’t even have that many people and I literally sit right near you, heck the professor takes attendance every day and you don’t even recognize me… Well, whatever, my name is Sabrina Parem, sorry for getting a bit fired up there.”

“It’s fine, I really don’t care either way,” he said impassively, “Why do you want to see me?”

“It’s just…… Physics is difficult and I am having a bit of a hard time. I’ve heard that you are pretty smart and I thought that I could ask for your help. Would you be willing to help me out?” She said with puppy dog eyes.

Terry thought about this for a while………hmmmmmmmmmmmm…. “Sure… I’ll help you out,” he said in a tone that was neither positive nor negative.

“Are you sure, you don’t seem very enthusiastic about it?” she said confusedly.

“I’m sure. Are we going to do it here though, it’s kinda windy?” he asked.

“No! Of course we will go somewhere else. How about we meet later at the Springborne Park at 6:00 tonight?”

“Sure,” and the two of them exchanged phone numbers and parted ways for the time being. For the next little while he pondered on what possessed him to care enough to decide to help the girl. There must be something special about her

A strange man walking in the night.

Fingertips made of glass.

A stick under his feet.

He tripped over the stick.

He yelped as he fell.

He instinctively tried to catch himself,

Only to land on his hands.

The glass shattered,

The man shook and cried out,

The hands covered in blood and broken glass.

Ironically,

All he thought was,

“How can I write with my beat up hands?”