The nurse dabbed the tip of the ink pen with her tongue. Swiping a quick test scratch at the corner of the notepad, she looked at the first patient. “And what’s your name, my dear?” “Cinderella.” The patient replied in a dreamy voice. Her eyes were closed. “The Fairy Godmother has turned a pumpkin into a carriage, my mice into footmen, and my ragged clothes into a beautiful ballgown that shimmers in the darkness. Even my shoes are lovely-they’re made of glass, but smooth and comfortable as the finest leather.”... read the full article