GOLDILOCKS: THE BEWITCHED WOODS

This story is a reimagined version of the popular fairy tale 'Goldilocks And The Three Bears' and is a part of the event Write A Page A Day on Blogchatter for the month of February.

CHAPTER 2

The trees pierced the sky like steeples, their gossamer branches blurred out high against the dusk. The luminescent creepers that entwined them pulsed like embers of bonfire in the dwindling light.

Mists thick with musk and sun-bleached pine, swirled around their trunks and veiled the forest floor in pillowy waves. The earthy smell of decaying leaves and damp moss made Goldwynn’s senses reel.

Disheveled, she scrambled to her feet, her heart racing like the devil.

The Locke mansion was nowhere to be seen – The cavern had spat her out like a bitter aftertaste. Her ears strained to hear some sign of life.

“Where am I .. and where in the blimey is Locke Mansion...!" her voice was lost in the hush.

The shrouded silence all around was dented only by the soft shivering of leaves.

She spun around, taking in the eerie beauty of her surroundings. The Willows seemed to lean in, their branches twirling like ballerinas and silvery leaves flashing in the fading evening glow. A swarm of Fireflies wobbled along stitching ember lights in the breeze like stars gone wild.

A path fringed by wildflowers and pebbles led into the ruddy woods like an arrow. The scent of blooming Heather and Chamomile burgeoned along the way.

As she took faltering steps ahead,she came upon a glade, and her breath caught – a cottage stood humbly under shady oaks, its outline as soft as a feather.

The gable roof was covered in a tangle of Wild Roses and Honeysuckle on a quilt of moss.

Tendrils of smoke lazily puffed its way out the chimney, spilling aromas of freshly baked bread and melting butter that made Goldwynn's stomach twist with hunger.

Mingling with it was the sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon floating from an open window. Her mouth watered at the sight of an apple pie cooling on a wire rack, golden brown and glazing in a single ray of light.

When was the last time I'd eaten?

Tummy rumbling like thunder, she stood on the porch. The air was thrumming with a gentle melody carrying with it the soft hum from a radio inside. Her eyes fell on the signboard swaying by the door: "The Bears".

The olive-green doors carved with Holly and bunches of Shamrock urged her to knock.

She rapped on it gently, hoping for a warm welcome, perhaps a spot of tea..a good slice of apple pie even?

The knock echoed through the empty cottage. "Anybody home?" Goldwynn’s voice faded into the forest...

Word Count: 419

To Be Continued....

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