Little Red Riding Hood – by Juan M.S.

There was a girl whom her mother had made a pretty cloak; she was nicknamed Riding Hood. The little girl had been sent by her mother to carry some cake and a bottle of wine to her grandmother who was sick in bed. She was very fond of her grandmother and wanted to gather some primroses for her because she thought that would give joy to her grandma and make her recover sooner. As little riding hood picked up the flowers the day drew on and night fell upon the forest, but she wasn’t scared because she had gone to her nanny’s many times before and she knew the path even in the dark of a moonless night.

But what she wasn’t aware of was that a wolf wandered around that area waiting for the most suitable time to come out of his lair and pounce upon his prey. He didn’t dare to do it in daylight lest some men of the village see him and give chase to him with their pack of dogs till they make away with his life, but it was a silent and propitious night and he approached little hood. At first she startled, but then she saw there was nothing to fear as the wolf made no threatening movements. So she addressed him in a friendly manner and stroked him on the back of his neck as she used to do with the puppies that her uncle bred to round up sheep. The wolf was in the point of showing his jaws and satiating his appetite on her, but one of the words she had just said called his attention. She was telling him about her ill grandma and how she was going to cure her by affectionately made cake and three pints of wine she was bringing her. He had heard of wine before but he had never tasted this elixir of the gods. He mildly asked her to give him to try just a small drink; he explained his life was full of hazards and men were the greatest ones, so he couldn’t dream of getting some wine at a shop. She sympathized with him and, without further delay, gave him the bottle of wine for him to have a taste of man’s product. He felt the sourness tickling his tongue, then his throat and then he was thirsty and couldn’t quench his thirst. He swallowed the bottle all at once with no better result. He started feeling dizzy and pathetic. He was just an old toothless wolf and he couldn’t even manage to eat a defenseless girl; he was sobbing aloud and little hood was patting his head. Don’t worry woolfy, everything will be just fine. They can’t find me here in the morning; they’ll kill me and I’ll never see my grandchildren again. I have two who survived: white fang and bay coat; they’re my pride and I can’t let them know I was killed so miserably. Don’t worry tata wolf, I’ll take care of your safety. And when he awoke next morning he was lying on a fragrant bed of primroses carefully arranged among the bushes, concealed from the human eye. He fumbled around till he got back into his senses and he lowered his watery eyes towards his feet. They were the only part of his body he didn’t have covered with a thick skin and a shaggy fur. He usually felt cold during the night due to this and it was the remainder of his deteriorating condition. He usually cried out his wounded pride and was even inclined to accept his old age and take death as a matter of fact to him. But this time a rush of life swept through him; he didn’t feel so old and abandoned as he saw little riding hood’s cloak covering his feet.

-from Love in the Time of the Internet


I'm a writer born in Argentina, but currently living in Poland. I work as an English and French teacher, translator and copywriter.

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