Cinderella caught the eye of her new husband and gave him a secret smile and a quick wink. He winked back. Happiness soared through her. She would never tire of looking at this charming man. He held her heart in the strongest of spells.
Her fairy tale had come true.
Bits and pieces of conversation seeped into Cinderella’s spinning head. She listened absently as Essie and Cill bickered over George Berkley’s An Essay Toward A New Theory Of Vision. Apparently, it questioned the objectivity of perception. She shook her head, smiling, as they hotly debated how the perception by sight and distance, magnitude and situation of objects of—well, she was not quite certain. She tried to follow, as their voices escalated into an argument that considered the differences between sight and touch, and anything common between the two. ’Twas confusing at best.
Their closeness brought her nothing but joy.
Cinderella tossed two sugars into a cup of tea, no cream, for Essie, and handed it to her. Then poured Pricilla’s who drank hers black. Then deftly snuck one cube to Marcel in her pocket. He nipped her finger in appreciation.
How different her life might have turned out had Essie not had such a dainty foot. She marveled in silence at such a miracle. How lucky to find such two extraordinary sisters that may never have otherwise materialized.
Not to mention, the expanded-shoe wardrobe. Things really did happen for a reason.