I’ve been writing for a long time. Digging through some of my old stuff the other night, I found this short story I wrote about twenty-five years ago (ugh – that makes me feel so old!) and thought it would be a good place to start on my short stories/excerpts thread. I can’t help but think, by the way, that my sixth grade teacher had obviously just gone over adjectives and “sparkle” words! 🙂
Anyway, here it is:
Little Red ‘Fraidy Cat
“…and Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother lived happily ever after. The end.”
Dad closed the book, kissed my forehead, and got up to leave. He reached for the light switch.
“Wait, Dad!” I threw my covers off. “Can I go get a drink of water?”
“That’s fine.” He went into the living room to watch TV while I padded into the kitchen. I gulped down the water.
When I got back to my bedroom, a problem arose. How was I going to turn off the light, then jump into bed? After all, there was enough room for a wolf to wiggle under, right? I stood for a moment with my hand on the switch, indecisive. Of course, I knew the easy solution would be to call Dad, but I was a big girl now. Besides, Little Red Riding Hood wasn’t afraid of the wolf.
“Time for lights out!” my dad called.
“I know!” I yelled, then under my breath, “That’s the problem.”
I glanced around desperately for a way to stall. “I just have to, uh…get, uh…my doll!” I ran over and grabbed Betty off the desk and laid her on the bed. Getting down on my hands and knees, I scanned under the bed. Nope. No wolf there. I scurried to the closet and flung open the door. No wolf there either. I walked back over to the light switch. I flipped off the light, turned, and sprinted toward the bed. Unfortunately, I tripped on my nightgown and fell on my face. I scrambled back to the wall and turned on the light. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t Little Red Riding Hood. I was more like Little Red ‘Fraidy Cat.
I was going to have to try again. Taking the bottom of my nightgown, I tied it around my waist. I took a careful look, gauging the distance. I slammed the light switch down, scampered across the floor, and took a flying leap.
I landed on the bed and wiggled under the covers.
“Are you in bed yet?” Dad called from the living room.
“Yeah, Dad,” I said with a triumphant grin.