Rapunzel was 12 when her hair fell out — about the same time the witch locked her in the tower. Soon, her hands began to warp into fearsome talons, and her tongue stretched till it could dart chameleon-like from her window, to catch the food her captor left far below. However, with her mouth reshaped, her songs fell out of tune, which meant when the prince happened past, he glanced up at the frightful noise, and sped on. Insouciant, she squawked expletives at him. She twisted in joyous agony; new limbs punched through her back, unfurling into wings that would carry her away, up, up into the sky to a new land, where Sleeping Beauty slept unkissed, and Cinderella danced in one glass slipper.
Originally a journalist and sub-editor, Sarah Barnett’s flashes have been published by Flashflood 2023, Free Flash Fiction, Paragraph Planet, Retreat West, Inkfish and Five Minutes. She also won Highly Commended in the NFFD microfiction competition 2024.
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