A Hundred Sleeps

spinning-wheel

(Photo: © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields)

 

It will only be a hundred sleeps. They said.

What length a sleep would be, they didn’t speak.

She will awaken once the sleeps are done. They said. With eyes that darted and rounded shoulders that hid words and fingers that kept fiddling with the thread.

Nothing, she observed, of how she’d be upon awakening. What she might become. Who would tend her.

If she’d dream.

Will she still know herself? Know them?

“Only a hundred sleeps,” they said.

She turned sixteen.

They pressed her finger to the quill spindle.

Blood bloomed. Dark came.

The curse.

A yarn. A spin.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

Going Farther

into-the-woods-ccc100

 

On the tenth visit on the tenth week following her tenth birth day, she took ten additional steps beyond the Big Tree Boundary.

She went Farther.

At first nothing happened. The woods looked as they had before. The trees no different in the Farther Realm than they were in the land she’d known and was allowed in until then: Green branches, a ground springy with the fallen leaves, wind whispering in the tree tops, birds’ song.

Then the light shifted and the air shimmered with a sense of something else. A being with.

She shuddered. Not in fear but with expectation. Not everyone went Farther, and none she knew spoke of what they’d found.

She stilled. The world around her blinked. The forest floor awoke.

Her heart raced and she inhaled. Her soul spoke. She knew it! She knew it! She’d be among the few allowed to see Fair Folk.

 

 

For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

 

 

Kiss Bliss

Frog Ready for a kiss AnneToet

Photo: Anne Toet

 

Time had arrived

To make the shift

From frog

To handsome

Prince,

But then the kiss

When it was dished

Kept Frog’s

Amphibian

Bliss.

 

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Fantasy

 

 

A Spinning Spin

 

Illustration: Anne Anderson from Grimm’s Fairy Tales (London and Glasgow 1922)

 

He wanted her to spin

Straw

Into gold.

To make the mundane

Magic

To behold.

Though the metal

Nourished

Naught,

And left only

An empty

Cot.

Where with

Better thought

He might’ve

Got,

Riches which

Could not

Be bought.

 

 

Note: A little spin on Rumpelstiltskin

For Anmol’s dVerse poetics: Myths and Legends

 

 

 

Pumpkin Stalk?

china4 AmitaiAsif

Photo: Amitai Asif

 

Pumpkin patch

Pumpkin hill

In pigtails

Overkill

And some weed

In the back

Growing beanstalk

For Jack?

 

For Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge