Red Rides Again


  Red hurried down the stairs, two at a time, and darted into the kitchen as she slipped her blazer around her shoulders. Her mother was sitting at the table, reading the morning’s paper with a permanent pout in place, and her sister was standing in front of the toaster, waiting for her breakfast to pop as she yawned sleepily.  She didn’t have to be in class for another thirty minutes, but Red’s grade was due in homeroom in little under five. Indeed, her friends – Claudianna and Saffron – were probably already at their desks, chatting inanely and making sure their socks were as high about their legs as the cotton would allow. As Red unhooked her bag from around the back of the chair – where she had abandoned it the night previous – the toaster popped and before her sleepy sister could reach to extract it Red had shot forwards and snatched the burnt slice and stuffed half of it into her mouth.
  “Red!” her sister exclaimed, suddenly alert.
  “Gotta go!” Red mumbled through a mouthful of the remaining stolen breakfast.
  “Mom!” her sister cried as Red hurriedly slipped into her pumps and grabbed her scarlet coat from the cupboard, rushing to escape the inevitable punishment, “Red stole my toast.”
  “Red,” her mother said without lowering the paper but in a tone that stopped the girl in her tracks.
  “Yes, mom?” Red said in her sweetest voice.
  “”Take Gram the leftovers after school,” she demanded simply, sliding a tower of tupperware full of a best of compilation of the week’s meals across the table towards Red with a single finger.
  “But mom,” Red started, “It’s not my turn, it’s-”
  “Well it’s yours now, Red.”
  “Yes!” her sister hissed from behind her, ecstatic she didn’t have to ride the bus to the last stop and venture through the forest on the outskirts of town. Gram was something of a recluse.
  “Ugh,” sighed Red, knowing it was a battle she wouldn’t win. There were few of those when it came to her mother. She began packing the tubs into a plastic carrier bag, now thoroughly late and frustrated.
  “So,” remarked her sister quietly, loading the toaster with two fresh slices “was it worth it?”
  “Shut up.”

On the release of the book a couple of weeks ago I decided to chill out a little and write a fairly short reimagining of the final scenes of Little Red Riding Hood (found HERE) and said how much I’d love to turn it into a feature length story. It’s been done time and time again, I know, and I know it’s nothing especially special, and yes there is a new movie coming out by Twilight director Catherine Hardwick that looks horrifically like Twilight in a werewolf skin, but STILL – perhaps there are angles that are still somewhat unique on this classic definitely-adult-but-somehow-aimed-at-kids children’s tale.


~ by Joseph Blame on January 13, 2011.

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