copyright Sandra Crook
I Killed Rapunzel
I killed Rapunzel.
The hair, it finally got to her. Some say it was the five hours of brushing a day that sent her mad; others, that her conditioner was cursed. All I know is she started strangling people.
She got five cops down on Brown Street; broke their necks with a single tug. Nothing there when I arrived but five corpses, and a single, 90-foot strand of hair.
I finally got her with a poison-tipped comb. No reward; they just handed me a pair of scissors.
Now what am I going to do with thirty bales of flaxen hair?
The Green-Walled Tower 