Sabrina

“~CHICKEN IN THE BREAD PAN A PICKIN OUT DOUGH
GRANNY DOES YOUR DOG BITE NO CHILD NO~”

~~~

In her childish merriment Sabrina forgot the terror that lurked just beyond the cottage door.  

She reached into the old chest and scrounged around until she found it – the blue dress with the broken zipper in the back.  It was her aunt’s old prom dress handed down to her sister for a dress-up dress and now it was hers.  She slipped it on over her clothes and dug into the trunk for the pair of gold high heels. 

She stood back and admired herself in the mirror on the wall.  The blue in the dress made her hazel eyes sparkle.  She took several strands of beaded necklaces and put them over her head one at a time.  Then she adorned both wrists with half a dozen bracelets each, placed a ring on each finger, and topped it off with a tiara which she gently placed on top of her blonde curls.  She picked up the bottle of lilac perfume and unscrewed the lid.  She dabbed each of her wrists and neck just as she had watched her mother do.  She brought the bottle to her nose and took a deep sniff.  She set the bottle back down and twirled and watched her reflection. 

“Now, it’s time to go visit Nana,” she said to herself as her large eyes scanned the room for her picnic basket.  She found in the top shelf and skipped into the kitchen with it in the crook of her arm.   She opened the refrigerator and took out some cheese.  She spread a tea towel on the counter.  Then she went to the cupboard and pulled out crackers,  raisins, and trail mix and laid a handful of each on the tea towel.  Then she tied it all up into a neat little bundle and set it inside her basket along with the cheese.

She whistled as her little fingers worked.  Without a care in the world, she skipped of out the front door and out the gate past the picket fence. 

She had just shut the gate when she remembered.  But it was too late.  He was on the loose.  She heard his fiendish cry and saw his red wings expand.  In a matter of seconds the beast’s beady eyes were peering into her own.  She screamed in terror, but it was no use there was no one within the sound of her small voice.  She cried out in pain as his sharp beak attacked the soft flesh and scarlet drops of blood streaked down her plump ivory legs.  She tried to kick the fiend, but he only flew back at her in a sadistic rage.  She ran as fast as she could to get to higher ground.  She tripped and the basket went one direction the cheese another.  The rest of the contents were left scattered on the ground at the scene of the attack. 

She reached the swing set and climbed up the ladder and screamed and cried while the beast continued his assault.  

Her mother working in the garden looked up from the row of potatoes she was planting and saw the rooster had once again taken Sabrina captive. 

For the last time.

Written for Magpie Tales # 39

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20 responses to “Sabrina

  1. My mother carried a scar above her left eye …. the result of a nasty rooster. Beautifully written Magpie!

  2. I have a few of those scars, the beast of a friend of my older brothers… and of course, I too would forget, and want to tag along… only to their delight.

  3. “For the last time.” Speaks volumes. Excellent story.
    — Kay

    Kay, Alberta, Canada
    An Unfittie’s Guide to Adventurous Travel

  4. Sounds like he’s scheduled for the pot!
    Here’s my Cock of the Walk

  5. Uh-oh. Sounds like fried chicken tonight.

  6. No wonder they make soup out of old roosters. Best thing for them!

  7. Poor little girl and yes that rooster was for the pot!

  8. a fitting finish for a fiendish fowl

  9. I’ve seen a few of those scars – I love ‘For the last time’.

  10. you have a way with words in this little jewel. love the plotting.

  11. Wow, this is good ….and rooster pie for dinner that night no doubt!

  12. Lovely writing – reminded me of Little Red Riding Hood – nasty rooster

  13. They really are vicious things. I’m taking it he went into the pot?

  14. AW,
    Oh my, imagine the fear that rooster put in that poor girl’s heart.
    Dunkin’ him in the scald would be perfect retribution.
    rel

  15. Roosters can be scary and boy can they run! Love your tale! 🙂

  16. Vividly written story! Hmm, what will she do to him?

  17. this grabbed my attention and kept it. “For the last time” thank goodness!! That poor girl. Great story

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