A creative response to Dornröschen (Sleeping Beauty) by Jethro Turner
Jupiter was in the garden too, on the phone. “Most American girls' funny stories involve Xanax in one way or another” he was explaining. She took a look at the roses. “Everyone hates me and they light up around you”, she thought to herself. At the opera the previous night, she’d stared down into the orchestra pit, and watched a second violin pause and cough while the orchestra tuned up. She was convinced she’d seen a small fleck of blood fall onto the score. But she felt silly telling Jupiter.