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Once upon a time (after all, who am I to go against this well-respected fairytale opening) there lived a young middle-class girl who simply doted on Jane Austen and Lord of the Rings (it would have sufficed to say she had excellent taste). This charming maiden also had a younger sister who doesn’t appear in this story at all, but the author thinks it important to at least acknowledge her existence. The young maiden took interest in many things except exercise, physics, cookbooks, cooking itself, facebook games, the Hilton sisters, the news programme, the weather programme, French historical grammar and Jack Kerouac.

Photo Source: http://profilephotocovers.com/places/fairy_tale_fantasy_neuschwanstein_castle/622/

One day this fetching creature met a lady that gave her good advice –nay, excellent advice. A fortnight later she was introduced to a petty government officer who offered her the very worst advice possible. The scoundrel. Another fortnight later she got a letter that bore some displeasing piece of news. All in all, the girl had quite constant sources of communication (she was ALMOST very popular in correspondence circles). However, a year ago, the heroine got into some trouble. (Once she returned from the ball after midnight (the hussy), but it has nothing to do with this story, so please forget about it. Immediately. Why are you still reading this paragraph?).

Despite her antagonistic feelings towards any form of physical exertion, the silly thing got and enrolled herself in a fitness class that took place every Monday morning at 7.30 a.m. Why, you ask? She couldn’t say. She only knew that the morning slot would suit her best because most fellow students are lazy buggers that wouldn’t dream of doing anything as demanding as indoor cycling so early in the week and she would be left alone to ponder her own thoughts for an hour and a half.

Alas, it would not be. Not only was she not alone, when she came in late the first morning, her gaze rested upon some twenty gentlemen who were already busily engaged in chasing one another around the gym. She was the only lady. They looked at her as if she had come in riding a unicorn. You see, the poor creatures had never seen a lady this close before. They were scared – and rightly so, she could have easily knocked the sense out of their nerd-built bodies (I mean, who else did you expect to show up at 7.30?).

Then, an extraordinary thing happened. She joined them quite unabashed (if you disregard her prolonged meditation of the floor, her disinclination to establish eye contact and the intense blushing that coloured her cheeks). In the end, it appeared they were more scared of her than she of them. It was one of the maiden’s many misfortunes that morning to forget to check herself up in the magic mirror on the wall. That honest bastard would have told her to avoid doing sports.

However, since the running slippers seemed a perfect match, she decided to give this thing a go. Also, she had washed her hair the previous evening and it seemed a waste not to show that gold locks off. When she entered the hall, it lit up (for the caretaker had just turned on the lights). She was a vision in black (she ran out of clean white clothes during the weekend). Well, as it had been already said, she joined the young frogs, I mean princes in sportsman attire.

Photo Source: http://www.orianit.edu-negev.gov.il/albayan/sites/homepage/english2%5Cstories.htm

The day seemed promising until (some few minutes later, two min actually) destiny gave her a horrible twist. She was stretching her shapely limbs when suddenly the earth shook beneath her feet and left her lying on the floor. The lady runneth no more.  She was lying prostrate on the floor for 5 long minutes, until the gentlemen decided it would be difficult to play the game around her – she was taking up too much space.

Finally, a man in black (her gym teacher) happened to notice she was writhing with pain, and offered her his arm for support. The game could be resumed; as for the girl, she wasn’t doing that well. Her right foot was twice the size of her left one. No reduction spell from Madam Pomfrey for her. (A friend of the lady’s did suggest that her foot was the size of a hobbit’s. At the time, the lady didn’t catch the word “size” and was afraid that her friend was making a much, much less gallant comparison. She would like to take this opportunity and apologise to her friend for the name-calling that ensued).

Luckily, she was given one call. She chose her sister’s father. As a king on a white horse, he came to her rescue and took her to the Houses of Healing. There they took care of her and gave her some more distressing news. The silly thing broke a bone in her left foot and was given a cast and a pair of crutches as a consolation prize. That week she had to miss all of her classes and she was inconsolable. But, bit by bit, her spirits were restored and soon she was only dead tired (she spent up to 12 hours at the faculty because her schedule was disastrous) and hungry (she frequently ran out of food and was too tired – refer to the previous remark – to buy some).

After two weeks, Lady Limps-A-Lot could manage the walk to the faculty (it only took her 5 times the usual time). Since she couldn’t hold an umbrella, her fairy god-mother brought her a black raincoat. She decided to disregard the fact that she looked like the limping hunchback of Ljubljana, and focused on what her LOTR background was forcing her to see. It was a cape of invisibility that the fair Galadriel handed out in the Fellowship. If nothing else, it helped hide her identity (which she was anxious to do at whatever cost).

Four months later she could walk normal again. THE END

Mr. Right didn’t make his appearance because to engage his services would have been too expensive and because the heroine thought he was no match for her.

Photo Source: http://www.themistermen.co.uk/mr_men/mr_wrong.html

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