Red Riding Hoot 2

Little Red Riding Hood put on her cape, took up a basket of goodies, and set out for Grandmother's house in the forest. Before she had gone far, a voice called out from the branches above. "Whoooo are you taking those goodies to, little girl?" She looked up to see an owl. "And more importantly," said the owl, "will you share?"

"No," said Little Red. "This basket is for Grandmother, who is ill and needs them to get well. Otherwise I would share them."

"You are a good child," the owl said, "so I will tell you a secret path to Grandmother's house." But the owl's directions led Red astray, and the owl flew ahead to Grandmother's.

"Grandmother!" The owl scratched at her window. "Your granddaughter is lost in the woods and has none to help her find her way!" Scared for Little Red, Grandmother took up her own cape and went out into the darkening woods in search. Hooting in laughter, the owl made herself at home in Grandmother's house.

She ate all of the oat cakes and nested in Grandmother's bed. "I should have done this years ago," she said to herself. Outside, the woods were pitch black.

Another Red Riding Hood

Once upon a time lived a girl called Red Riding Hood for her choice of clothing. One day, her grandmother fell sick with fever in her home in the woods. Compassionate and dutiful, Red packed a basket of food and medicine and went to aid her grandmother. A vicious and cunning wolf watched her in the woods. Feigning concern, he learned the circumstances of her travel and her destination. Knowing the woods well, he took a shorter path. He was so hungry that when he arrived, he swallowed Grandmother whole. Still hungry, he donned her nightclothes and climbed into her bed.

When Little Red Riding Hood arrived, the wolf greeted her in his best Grandmother imitation. "Come closer."

"My, what big ears you have," said Red Riding Hood.

"Yes, I, um." The wolf felt a moment of dizziness. "The better to hear you with, my dear. Come closer."

"My, what big eyes you have," said Red Riding Hood.

"The better to, um. Oh, God, she's vomiting inside me." The wolf retched and vomited up Grandmother, who staggered to her bed. Weak with food poisoning, the wolf fled.

"That'll teach you to eat sick old ladies!" Riding Hood called after him.

Spider's Journey

When Spider woke up, her beautiful web was wet. Tiny droplets of water, shining in the morning light, clung to the many corners of the web she had worked so hard to create. Angry, she went to Moth. "Why is my web all wet?" she asked.

Moth shrugged. "Maybe it rained last night?"

"Rain?" Spider said. "Is that your fault?"

"Uh, no?" said Moth. "Try asking Fly, maybe?"

Spider hurried off and found Fly. "My web is wet," she said, "and Moth says it's because it rained. Did you make it rain?"

Fly, seeing that Spider would not jump on her, settled down and said, "Hmmmmmm, nope."

"Who made it rain, then?"

"Mmmmmmmm, dunno. Ask Grasshopper." Fly flew away.

Spider found Grasshopper among the weeds. "Fly says you made it rain on my web!"

"Yeah, no," said Grasshopper. "That's not really my thing, y'know? I jump and eat stuff, I don't make it rain."

Spider screamed with frustration. "Then who did?"

"Yeah, probably the titan." Grasshopper leaped away.

"The wha—?" Massive footsteps shook the ground, and a giggling monster ran past spraying everything with a rubber tube that made rain. Spider scurried away, to wait for her web to dry.

Unthinkable

The gunman — gunwoman, really — had everyone in the office on their knees, hands on their heads, facing away from her. "You, you don't need to do this, you know?" Marie didn't dare look around as she spoke.

"Why shouldn't she?" said Frank, " We're awful. We really do ruin lives here."

"God's sake, Frank," someone hissed, "shut up!"

"Like any of you understand." She was sobbing now. "None of you ha-ha-ha-had to hold Evan's hand while he... all because you bastards denied our claims!" Her voice rose to a scream.

"You're fuckin' right, lady. Do it. Rid the world of—"

"Frank!" Marie glared at him. "Listen, it's awful that you lost someone—"

"My son!"

"God, that's, that's just unthinkable. But hurting us won't bring him back. It'll just bring that same pain to, to many more people. Not just our people, but anyone who cares for you. When... when this is over."

Silence settled over the office. The hostages fidgeted, and one started to cry. Frank looked over his shoulder. The others didn't notice he'd gotten up until he stood over the rifle the gunwoman had left behind. Frank picked it up and looked at his coworkers. He smiled.

Just a Dream

I'm running some letters to the post office on a simple errand. Last to leave the house for the day, of course I forget something, so I turn my car around. But there's a red car in the driveway, a hatchback I've seen before, so I coast by. The junkie ex-husband from Dexter watches the house from the driver's seat, so sneak a couple photos of his license plate. I thought I was being subtle, but as I drive off the red car follows me. I don't like that at all. I drive faster, take a couple turns to get out of his line of sight, and then open up on a straightaway. It seems like I've lost him, so I turn toward the freeway. It's awkward taking my tricycle on the freeway, but I need to get to school and I'm late. The other students in class don't care, but the teacher comments that I've missed twenty minutes of a forty-minute class, and half a test.

It was just a dream, but the places were real. Every time I drive up the road to my house, I look for the red car, and I wonder if he's watching me.

Poor Lord Brockhurst

The group of figures huddled together in the dark and stink of a city alley. One tramped on the cobblestones for warmth, another fingered the hilt of his poniard. "So," said one, "we get ol' Lord Brockhurst alone, then Jake here slips him the steel, and we all grab whatever shiny we can, right?"

"Right," the others chorused.

"And we all meet up at the Bent Gentleman to split the loot, yeah? Louise?"

"Yeah, fine," she said, "but I don't know the Bent Gentleman. Where's it?"

"How can you say that? We've met there a hunnerd times, over by Smith's Alley and Drunkard's Walk?"

"Oh," she said, "you mean the Vomitous Lad? Yeah, I can meet there."

"No one calls it that," he said.

"Sure they do."

"I thought it was Farmer's Flatulence," another said. She looked around. "Am I the only one, then?" Heads nodded.

"C'mon," said the first, "sign's of a man, bent at the waist, touching his toes like?" The other two nodded. "The Bent Gentleman," he insisted.

"Wait," said Jake, "you mean the place with that barmaid, Fanny?" They nod. "Oh." He nods to the others. "They're talking about the Ready Rodger."

"Ohhhhhh," chorused the others.

The Duke's Dungeons

"Mom." She looked up from her work and wiped her brow, leaving behind a smear of ink. She peered at her son across the workshop cluttered with blueprints, inkpots, quills, and stone samples. "Why the long face?" she asked.

"We have a big job," he said. His voice was flat, and he stared at the ground. "The duke."

"That's great," she said, but her voice was wary. She put down her quill. "But what's wrong?"

"It's for his next dungeon," John said, looking up at his mother with red-rimmed eyes.

"Oh, God." She ran to him and hugged him tight. "Have you told your father?"

"No, um. Not yet."

"We should tell him," she said. "He deserves to know. Is..." She looked at him. "Is there anyone you want to say goodbye to? I mean, we have some time before the duke buries us alive to preserve his secrets, but still."

"Well, there's this one girl..."

"That's fantastic. You go spend time with her." He turned to go. "And John? It might be our last project, but it's also going to be the most interesting we've ever done. Let's enjoy it."

He gave her a teary smile, and he left.