By Trina Jacobs
“Be careful, girl,” Mr. Wolf said, “There are a lot of dangerous beasts in the woods.”
Little Red shrugged. “I’m not afraid.”
Mr. Wolf grinned. “You should be.” He rode on.
He was at Grandma’s house when she arrived, looking smug as he warmed himself by the fire.
“I’ve brought you wine and bread to go with dinner,” Red said, glancing at Mr. Wolf.
Grandma smiled with too many sharp teeth. “Shall we?”
The women shed their clothes and shifted.
Mr. Wolf’s eyes went wide. He was only a man. He didn’t have time to run.
Red and Grandma feasted.
Trina Jacobs has been writing down the stories that fill her head since she learned to write words.