The Writers Voice
The World's Favourite Literary Website

The Wolf's Tale

by

Frances Mackay

This is all that redneck w-w-woodcutterís fault. If it hadnít been for him I w-w-w-would be happily living my life out in those deep woods. If he had not made it his lifeís w-w-work to chop down all those trees none of it w-w-would ever have happened.

But, oh no! He knew best - those trees had to go, all of them.

Sure, I knew that houses had to be built, people had to be kept w-w-warm in w-w-winter and logs were needed for fuel, but w-w-what about the creatures that lived in those w-w-w-woods? W-w-what about the squirrels, the rabbits and the voles. Especially the voles! They were my favourite meal and they all vanished. There w-w-was no-where for them to live you see, so they died from exposure, or starved.

So w-w-when Little Red started visiting her Grandmother, that w-w-was w-w-when I got the idea. After all she broadcasted what she was doing with that stupid song she kept singing. A w-w-wolf has to live too, you know!

Okay, I followed her for a couple of days till I got her routine down pat. She never knew I was there. W-w-we w-w-wolves can be stealthy, w-w-we donít go around howling all the time. And, w-w-while Iím at it w-w-we donít eat humans, just ask Farley Mowat, he lived with us for quite a while, so he should know. That rumour about eating those two is a slanderous lie. I only w-w-wanted the basket of goodies. Remember, I hadnít had anything to eat for days.

Anyway I w-w-would have gotten away with it if Woodie-two-shoes hadnít had the hots for Little Red. Always hanging around w-w-when she was in the woods, he was. Looking for a chance to put himself in her good books, to act the hero.

W-w-well he caught me all right, and a right old ponce I looked, dressed in Grandmaís clothes. All for a plate of cookies - which Little Red and W-w-wonder boy ate before Grandma got home from the store. While I was tied to the bed with Grandmaís dressing gown cord. They really rubbed it in as I watched, savouring every bite they fed to each other. Obscene it was.

Itís not so bad here really, I suppose. At least I am w-w-warm enough and get my square meal every evening. Though I miss being free and I hate howling for those stupid visitors every afternoon though...

By Frances Mackay © 2003

Critique this work

Click on the book to leave a comment about this work

All Authors (hi-speed)    All Authors (dialup)    Children    Columnists    Contact    Drama    Fiction    Grammar    Guest Book    Home    Humour    Links    Narratives    Novels    Poems    Published Authors    Reviews    September 11    Short Stories    Teen Writings    Submission Guidelines

Be sure to have a look at our Discussion Forum today to see what's
happening on The World's Favourite Literary Website.