• leaflet

    . . .a thin triangular flap of a heart valve. . . a small book usually having a paper cover . . . a medical lit-art e-journal from The Permanente Press
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Little Red Riding Hood Revisited

Prose, Taos Writing Retreat

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful country girl named Red. She was named so because of the bright red, wavy hair that she possessed. She was the apple of her granny’s eye. They all lived in a small town north of Tombstone, Arizona.

One day her mom asked her to take some chicken soup to her granny’s house. Granny wasn’t feeling well and had come down with the flu. Red grabbed her cloak with the hood, as it looked like a thunderstorm maybe approaching. Her mom helped her climb onto the saddle of her dark brown roan and settle the jar of chicken soup securely.

As Red was riding along to her granny’s house, she came upon a man dressed in black hat, pants and vest, riding the most beautiful palomino. He had six-shooters slung low on each side. “Hey little Red Lady,” he said. “Where are you off to with that jar of chicken soup?” “I am going to see my sick granny,” she said. After contemplating Red a little longer he said, “I’d like some of that chicken soup”. Red frowned and said, “You can’t have any, it’s for my sick granny,” and she kicked her horse into a quick gallop. She was afraid to look back to see if the man was following her. As she turned in her saddle to look back, she saw the man spur his horse into a full gallop after her dusty trail.

Wolf’s Point of View:

It was a cloudy day that threatened of thunderstorms. Bud, whom was nicknamed “Bad Wolf” by his gun-slingin’ friends, was out for an afternoon ride. He was on his way to Tombstone for some women, liquor, and gamblin’.

As he was riding along, he came upon the most beautiful young woman with the most stunning red hair. She was riding an old nag that looked to be on its last legs. As he got closer to her, he noticed she was carrying a jar of chicken soup. “Hey little red lady, where are you going to with that jar of chicken soup?” he said. “I’m going to see my sick Granny”, Red said without stopping. As he watched her leave, he thought, “Little Red Riding Hood, you sure are looking good! You’re everything a big bad wolf could want.” She had ridden off down the road, but now looked back at him. He muttered to himself, “Why bother with Tombstone.” He turned his horse in her direction and spurred his horse into a full gallop after her dusty trail.