Wild and Wilder Woods

not-quite Journaling, 69

 Wishes of doom steal hope
from all.

 12/5/2023: Some truths are that simple. Wishes of gloom and doom infect every heart involved. The opposite is also true, positivity and goodwill can be delightfully contagious--so, let the kindness spread.

 

Dark days wither,
not love.

12/13/2023: This one tells me that, every now and again, when pain seems interminable and hope feels like a myth, we must remind ourselves of the sweeter aspects of our reality. What does it say to you?

 

All I want is you
and wild and wilder woods.

 4/30/2024: All right, so that’s a HUGE fib--I also want to garden under the sun, to run 13 miles a week, to sleep through the night, to read printed books for hours, to travel to the Dominican Republic, to spend the whole day cleaning my home, to swim in a clean river (it’s been forever!), to eat grapefruit, to visit secondhand bookshops, to sip a tiny glass of peach wine, to dance all night long, to… well, you get my drift. The closer I get to the end of my current treatment (this summer 🤞🏾), the more hopeful (and impatient) I get about being able to do so many seemingly trivial things (again).

– for Poets and Storytellers United (Friday Writings #127: All I want is…)

Homicidal Brats with Entitlement Issues

I am not saying my cousin didn’t have faults, because she did. She borrowed books and would not return them until asked. She used ALL CAPS to write of excitement or outrage. And she was convinced sugar was the most important thing in the universe. So what if she feasted in dulce de leche cake for breakfast and spotted dick for lunch? Her mouth was hers to use as she pleased.

Yes, my cousin was weird. But being peculiar--or nutty enough to think building a cottage out of bread, cake, and sugar was a good idea--does not make a person evil. It was her land, her sweets, her magic. And no one had the right to tell her what to do with her stuff. Especially not a pair of homicidal brats with entitlement issues.  

So that is a hard “no”, Your Honor. I will not remove the death curse my cousin put on Hansel and Gretel. They will never be able to consume anything but sweets: not when their teeth start to rot, not when their blood turns treacle-black, not when their hearts get so inflamed they pop. If they eat anything other than bread and cake and sugar, oh my! their innards will burst into outers. But do not fret, I am no heartless witch. I have baked three apples the two darlings can devour without triggering my cousin’s curse.

photo by Liia, on Unsplash

 – for Poets and Storytellers United (Friday Writings #124: Word List)