“Then Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!

I was in a pumpkin!”
The therapist nodded,
scribbling on the yellow notepad.
He had never encountered a
patient as delusional as Cinderella.

She often told tales of her
best friends
the mice,
and mumbled about
dreams coming come true
if you just believed...
or something like that.
He always felt sorry for the
poor girl.

She laid comfortably on
the black leather ottoman,
blonde ringlets splaying
in a halo around her
confused head,
as she tells him her plans
to open a store
selling glass slippers

He counts down the minutes
and, when their session finally ends,
relief washes over his body.
She stands curtsying and saying
“Thank you for the time, your majesty,
You’ve been so charming!”