Winter

Belle snuggled into her fur coat and squinted her eyes against the sting of sleet as the wind whipped up a blizzard. The hissing of the storm was so loud in her ears that she couldn’t hear Harry calling out to her.

Her empty belly grumbled as she staggered forward. The ground was swamped with gleaming white beads of ice that crunched under her feet, camouflaging the furrow where the grass sidewalk met with the cold black tarmac of the main road. The low winter sun had already dipped behind the trees and headlights flashed past, reflecting on the glossy road, tyres spraying up water and grit.

Lit up by a passing car, Belle saw a display of food across the road. The smell was enticing and no one else seemed interested in the tempting offer. Hunger urged her to step forward.

“Belle!” Harry thumped against her as she was about to step onto the road.

Belle bounded backwards as a car sped past, splashing her with muddy spray. “You scared the life out of me,” she chastised Harry, who looked slightly out of sorts.

“You weren’t going to pick up something to eat without me were you?” Harry glanced across the road at the spot Belle had been heading.

“’course not, silly.” Belle, visible shaken, pressed herself against Harry for warmth and comfort.

Harry nudged his nose into her neck, causing her to squeal a little giggle. She loved the tickle of his whiskers.

As soon as the traffic subsided, Harry glanced at Belle and winked at her. “Now!”

Together they dashed across the road, onto the pavement to the roadside rubbish bin where a careless traveller had discarded a bag of fruit cores and peels.

Harry sat back on his haunches and watched as Belle stuck her head in the plastic bag and began nibbling at a brown apple core. He sighed. A second later and Belle would have hopped into the road and under the tyres of the passing car. In that one second he would have lost the love of his life.

The blizzard picked up as the wind buffeted the rabbits’ fur. Harry told himself it was the cold beads of ice and not his love for Belle that made his eyes glisten with moisture.

A dark narrative based on a favourite fairy tale

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in a village near the forest. Whenever she went out, the little girl wore a red riding cloak, so everyone in the village called her Little Red Riding Hood. 

But the little girl had a terrible secret. The bright colour of her cloak would fade a little bit each day.

To ensure the colour of her cloak would once more be restored the little girl would sneak out at full moon, when no one was watching, and visit the surrounding villages to help the angel of death reap the souls of the unsuspecting. 

As her reward, the angel would revive the colour of the cloak with each drop of blood she spilled.