The hair atop his head was unfurling around him, long pretty locksbounced off his head falling around him, dropping to his shoulders as hisbody shiver...d and shook.He gasped in terror and heard not his own voice but the high pitch whineof a child.He turned and scrambled across the floor to the mirror, he placed histiny hands on the glass to support himself as he stood up again. To hishorror he saw what he could only describe as a small child wearing aparent's old t shirt for a night gown, the. She stood by the living room window over a small balcony just large enough for her to peg her clothes to dry after she'd mastered the washing-machine. Down below was a network of clean well-paved roads and a shop opposite which sold almost everything from light-bulbs and lentils to radios and radishes. A huddle of older women stood at the bus stop just by a policeman in a dark green uniform, smoking a cigarette. Radiating out for a few hundred yards were similar streets, the occasional small. He must be an FBI agent. I figured Brenda's dad wouldn't refer to herthat way. "Yes, who is this?" "This is agent Crandall. Is there anyone else in the room with you?" "No, just me. Why?" "Lock your door, and wait for us until we arrive." "Yes sir," I said, properly intimidated. "We're leaving right now," mom said. "Ok, I'll be waiting. I love you." "Oh honey, I love you too." The line went dead. I began packing everything up, and getting ready togo. I hid the safety deposit box key under the. Naturally there is a wicked step-father and some naughty step-brothers that need to get their own ‘just desserts’ as well. Sex contents: No Sex. None at all. Sorry. Genre: Old Fashioned Fairy Tale Codes: Humor, Romance Originally Posted at SOL: 2007-05-22 ************** Thanks to Dragonsweb for the cleanup help with this old revised story! ************** The old storyteller rested his eyes for a moment and took a deep pull from the blackjack of ale that the young cobbler had brought him..