A mirror. An image. A black dress. A cold night. This level of cold turns her into sailor. She curses as she straightens her dress. It’s freaking cold. Damn it. A man somewhere among the 7 billion of us gave her his rib and then forgot what she looks like. That’s the fable making rounds. In exchange for his rib, she is to obey, love and make children with this man. But she is yet to meet him.
As the tale articulates, he charges dragons, follows her delightful voice to her fortress where he uses her long hair to climb up and rescue her from the confines of lonely nights. Okay, that’s a different tale. She has never seen a dragon (disregard khalessi’s dragons in Game of thrones). Her voice wouldn’t charm a snake out of a cave and if anyone tried to climb her hair, well, he would have to be a miniature dwarf. Come to think of it, when is the last time you saw a dwarf? Is there a dwarf shortage? Maybe there is an island..