Just the thought of the prince dancing with her made Cinderella light-headed. “I could stay like this for the rest of my life,” she thought. The ball gown, the horse carriage, the glass slippers, the entire wonderful evening fading out at the stroke of midnight. The final glimmers of her fairy godmother experience faded as all such visions do, dripping away as the final drops of blood left her arm.
She would be found late the next morning, the entire household having slept late after the ball. All her stepmother could think was “Of course she would leave a mess.”