Peter heard his own voice becoming more hoarse as he continued to shout up at the window of the tower. He had dreamed of this moment for months and was euphoric with excitement. He stopped to catch his breath, took another gulp of air and shouted at the top of his lungs, “RAPUNZEL, RAPUNZEL! LET DOWN YOUR HAIR!!”

The tower window flew inwards and an angry-faced Rapunzel leant out-sans hair.

“Now listen,” she hissed, “I watched you ride up on that raggedy horse in those raggedy clothes. I’m not letting Β my hair- or anything else down for you- for that matter! Not now, not ever! Now piss-off!!!” The window rattled as it was slammed shut.

Peter’s mouth hung open for several minutes. Eventually, he shrugged, mounted his horse and began the slow descent down the hillside. There was no-one in sight. The virus had wiped out all the men, save for himself .

“The witch can rot in her tower,” he muttered. Β He rode on- already smacking his lips at the adventures that lay ahead. The only man, huh?…………….

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