Drabble Dabblin'
Food for Thought
"There's a cottage in the wood," her mother says. "There's a witch. Are you afraid?"
"Yes."
"Good. I didn't raise you to be foolish. But you must swallow your fear. It's all I have to feed you now."
There are stones in her pocket, hard and white as teeth. Wolf's teeth, her mother's teeth flashing in the dusk when she and her brother find their way home.
"There's the last of the bread. That cottage's oven is never empty."
Birds eat the breadcrumbs, and her brother wails at the loss.
"Hush," she says, and swallows hard. "I'll feed you better."
END
"There's a cottage in the wood," her mother says. "There's a witch. Are you afraid?"
"Yes."
"Good. I didn't raise you to be foolish. But you must swallow your fear. It's all I have to feed you now."
There are stones in her pocket, hard and white as teeth. Wolf's teeth, her mother's teeth flashing in the dusk when she and her brother find their way home.
"There's the last of the bread. That cottage's oven is never empty."
Birds eat the breadcrumbs, and her brother wails at the loss.
"Hush," she says, and swallows hard. "I'll feed you better."
END