A Wolf At The Door

A Wolf At The Door

Do you believe in fairy tales? I don’t. There are no fairy godmothers, there is no magic in love’s first kiss. Monsters though? I believe in them and you should too. They’re everywhere, walking around in their skin suits, looking so normal. But they’re not.

There’s the bears to start, they prefer little blonde girls. The witches aren’t at all picky though, all are welcome in their cooking pots. Never trust a Huntsman; they say they want to help but they just want you to run, run, run! You shouldn’t see a pirate unless you are at sea and then you’ll have much worse things to worry about than pirates.

Like the big bad wolf. He’s the worst of the worst. All the better to eat you with he’ll growl while he stares at you with his hypnotic eyes. There’s a wolf watching me. He pretends he’s watching over me but I know the truth, I know he’s just waiting to get me alone so he can eat me. I thought I had him fooled for a while, had him thinking I was bat shit crazy, but he saw through my ruse and now the chase is on again.

We both pretend we don’t know who we really are, a tacit renewal of our previous game. I will compliment his eyes (my what big eyes you have), his smile (my what big teeth you have), his gentle touch (my what big hands you have), and he’ll pretend he really cares. Pretend he doesn’t want to chew me up, spit me out, do it all over again. If you go into the woods today, it’s not the bears you need to worry about.

17 Comments

    1. Author

      Bet you never over cooked the porridge!

        1. Author

          Guess you aren’t a bear then!

            1. Author

              Your secret is safe with me!


    1. Author

      Thanks you πŸ™‚

    1. Author

      Thanks, great fun to write πŸ™‚

        1. Author

          Well first I’ll finish one, then there’s that whole editing process … one day?

            1. Author

              You in a hurry to read some trashy romance?

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