[Submission] Little Red
crawls out of the wolf’s stomach with an axe.
From this story one learns that children,
Especially young lasses,
Pretty, courteous and well-bred,
Do very wrong to listen to strangers,
And it is not an unheard thing
If the Wolf is thereby provided with his dinner.
I say Wolf, for all wolves
Are not of the same sort;
There is one kind with an amenable disposition
Neither noisy, nor hateful, nor angry,
But tame, obliging and gentle,
Following the young maids
In the streets, even into their homes.
Alas! Who does not know that these gentle wolves
Are of all such creatures the most dangerous!“It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever sight.”
Lolita, Vladimir Nabakov, 1955
“What big teeth you have !
All the better to eat you with, my dear !
With these words, the wicked Wolf leapt upon Little Red Riding Hood and gobbled her up. If the Wolf is thereby provided with his dinner.”
Little Red Riding Hood, Charles Perrault, 1697
Hiding deep within the forest foliage, I slowly drive into the alley, where I recall the back exit of the bar leading to. Eating up, drinking in, the sight of young girls is the fuel of my desire, the meat I gnaw on late at night as my teeth and lust grow.
Oh my love- venturing naively, a pure child, past the foliage, venturing deep into my dark, damp cave, basket and bottle in hand.
Red.
The colour of passion, lust, temptation. Love.
Rouge rests on her daisy fresh shoulders, my touch darkens the tint to a bloody bruise. Hidden by her hood, my eyes widen, my ears strain, my teeth grow to seek out her curves and figure through the cloth, drooling, how can a predator seeking out his prey be anything but natural ?
The smell of cookies, rum, fills the air as she relaxes into me. I swallow, bite her whole, breathe in the scent, forgetting red also shows in blood, violence, warnings. Snapped out of the drunken haze.
Little Red Riding Hood wraps herself in her hood again, crawls out of the wolf’s stomach with an axe, a half-smashed bottle.
She dials the telephone for her grandmother.
This mixed-format work was submitted to the White Lily Society for the limited time submission prompt “fairytales”
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