Tale as Old as Time – Friday Fictioneers

It is time again for Friday Fictioneers, that once a week exercise in brevity (which is the soul of wit as some old dead Englishman once said).

Your host, the lovely and dedicated Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, provides a photographic prompt (this week’s picture by Erin Leary) and participants use this as inspiration to craft a tale in 100 words (or so).

This week I am continuing an idea of writing fairy tale unhappily ever afters. Only my third time doing this, but it seems to be the mood I am in, darlings.

I do hope you enjoy, and as always, please be sure to read the other stories, and tip your waitress, ’cause she’s broke.

erin leary

erin leary

Some people sneered at her, using words like accomplice, and monster.

Others gave her pitying looks.

What horrors she endured! The bleeding hearts cried. Who could blame her?

In the end, she was sent to a foggy little village, where she would be safe.

She didn’t dare stray beyond the old wooden fence.  There were wolves in the woods; she could hear them howling at night.

Protective custody felt like a prison after all.

Still, Belle kept hopeful.

Someday, her Prince would come, and they’d all see what a kind and gentle soul her Beast was.

Then they’d be sorry.

———-

100 words eggs act tickly

 

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61 responses to “Tale as Old as Time – Friday Fictioneers

  1. You had me for a moment there, I was feeling very sorry for Belle for being separated from Beast…and then that final line. Loving the unhappily-ever-afters.

  2. It’s so suggestive.
    Not in the usual sense of the term, just that, it… suggests. Many things.
    Wonderful, Miss.

    • I wanted to make it clear that she’s still nutso in love and defensive of him (you don’t understand him — he’s not a beast — he’s kind and gentle!) Perhaps growing up with a doormat mother and a beast of a father gave me the proper perspective for this one.

    • I held off as long as I could, darling — really I did. I had her name dropped earlier, then changed it to “she”. Would you believe I actually had to prune this one down by about 30 words???

  3. I like the extension of the Beauty and the Beast tale. When he comes for her, he be gentle, but only to her. I’d hate to be anyone who took her away when the Beast finally arrives!

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    • Thank you darling! I’m sure there will be more to come — I’ve always loved the original folklore — most of the old stories are generally darker spook stories or cautionary tales, rather than sappy love stories.
      Incidentally, Jessica says she’s still plugging away at that story she told you about — it just got a bit bigger than she originally expected.

      • Looking forward to more. And please tell Jessica that I say thanks and I do understand how a story can grow. Maybe you should give her a treat, like the fake Brie that Andra Watkins found 🙂

      • After a steady low protein diet designed to keep her docile and accommodating, I fear that cheese — even fake nasty plastic Brie cheez product — may prove to provide our favourite tortured writer with enough strength to mount an escape attempt. And then what would become of Bayou Bonhomme?

  5. I have a feeling they’ll be more than sorry, my dear! A great idea – dark fairy tales were my favourite sort as a little girl – not sure what that says about me! Keep it up – your fans need more!

  6. Helena- I am loving these.But I wrote a poem called Happily Ever After my Ass- a princess support group. It seems It’s always that bad ones that take hold. Loving your Belle. Faaabulous!

  7. Hi Helena,
    I never thought you were just a pretty face. From your writings and comments, you seem to have been around the cultural block a few times, and very well read. Especially fairy tales. This one is a howl, a comment of the nature of love, and a wistful hope for the future. It made me celebrate my inner beast. Ron

    • Oh, that’s actually the first one I did, a few months back — it was a little darker than that, involving a Prince Charming who preyed on trusting girls who go off with someone they’ve just met.

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