Coming at’cha every Sunday at noon Eastern Standard Time EST – here’s more creative content craziness from Jennifer Weigel…
They called her brave. She came here carrying the weight of her stepmother’s vengeance, bearing her blame. She was young and beautiful and fierce, though ever obedient and docile. She had so many things to prove but she wore them like armor, keeping her hardships to herself.
The village accused me of atrocious horrors beyond reason, luring innocents to their deaths deep in the forest, grinding their bones to make my bread. I was minding my own business, tending to my fire and readying my cottage for winter. I was vilified because I didn’t abide by their rules.
When she arrived, I wanted to help so I bade her work for me. She did everything as I asked, sorting seeds and helping with backbreaking labor. But still, I couldn’t trust her. She was blessed, from the village, and seeking fire. Deep down she was waiting for me to let down my guard.
I had no choice; I ran her off, though I gave her a lantern to light her way. She was welcomed back to the village as a heroine. Celebrated. I only hope she found what she was looking for back there, and that those who meant her harm by sending her to me met their fates, whatever that wrought.
But I never would have described her as brave. She accepted what she was told to do without question or complaint. She took only what was offered, nothing more. She played according to their rules. She never deviated enough to show true courage. She was always and ever complacent.
It’s no wonder she is beloved. The village finds beauty in quietude, humility, meekness. They vilify all that they do not understand and cannot control. This is precisely why I remain in the woods.
(Image features photograph of fancy wall lighting, from my Chrystalis series.)
Weird Wyrlds 
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