Edo and I

Among the many forms of chic,

the one I find most chic

is the witch from Cinderella.

To poor Cinderella, she grants

a carriage, a dress, and glass slippers.

And she says the magic will wear off at midnight.

I cannot imagine a ball starting that late.

So, she must have assumed

that Cinderella and the prince would

be having quite a time until midnight.

It is a very chic gesture.

And then, the accident of the glass slipper

slipping off because she was in a hurry—

this, too, is extremely chic.

Was it planned, or a coincidence,

or perhaps the work of magic?

The glass slipper, which seemed

to embody the lingering afterglow, must have been truly beautiful.

If that is the case, then the next step of

searching for the "woman who fits perfectly" into that glass slipper

is surely also

within the expected scope of the event, which is enough to make one nervous.

Wouldn't it be normal to just search by her face?

No, no, that would surely be boorish.

Because with the appearance of

that unsolvable glass slipper,

the fact that such a situation arises is incredibly chic.

Manipulating coincidence and necessity,

that witch, who is like a true Edokko,

by showing us how a frail, unhappy girl finds happiness,

taught us about fairy tales.

That, too, is extraordinarily chic.