She woke up this morning and found herself blue.
Frantically she scrambled out of bed to check the mirror before her governess arrived to wake her. Still blue. Her hair hadn't changed, it was still glorious orange-red, but her face and her skin and her hands were all blue.
"This can't be," she whispered. "I'm dreaming. I'll close my eyes and when I open them I won't be blue."
When she opened them she wasn't blue.
But the wrenching pain she felt as the blue rippled all over and turned back to pink told her it was not a dream.
Frantically she scrambled out of bed to check the mirror before her governess arrived to wake her. Still blue. Her hair hadn't changed, it was still glorious orange-red, but her face and her skin and her hands were all blue.
"This can't be," she whispered. "I'm dreaming. I'll close my eyes and when I open them I won't be blue."
When she opened them she wasn't blue.
But the wrenching pain she felt as the blue rippled all over and turned back to pink told her it was not a dream.
