Harsh defiance stood between her and freedom, though she could not see it. She was perpetually sore from straining against it, her face splayed grotesquely against the transparent wall, while the rest of her body folded into a cage so narrow it took up virtually no room. Though so cruelly distorted, her vision was not – a cruel gift by those who had ensnared her. She could see through her glass wall into a vibrant world, full of life and beauty and color – a dream from which she was forever barred.
And all because she was gifted in one pitiful strand of prophecy, enabling her to tell dangerous flattery to whoever muttered: “Mirror, mirror, on the wall…”