The Prince and Her Daydream.

My masterful place by the sea. I wonder how it will feel to indulge myself in the cold stones cloaked in moss. A prince drowning in pearls and silk ribbons leaves her stately abode to tumble; flesh and bone meet and become violet with the cliff side. 

I will fly. Like a harpy, I will soar. I will not die! No! The sirens are coddling me, carrying me back to shore. The fourth time this week, I suspect I ought to give them a break now and again. 

What will I have for supper! No idea really. I hope I get tiramisu for dessert.