CIRCLE WITH A DOT

A Grimm tale: The oven’s heat crawled up Gretel’s neck as she scrubbed the hearth. Through the heavy door, she heard the rhythmic scrape of a spoon against a ceramic bowl. Hansel was eating again. Each metallic clink felt like a clock ticking toward a feast she was forced to prepare. Her chest tightened with a cold, sharp dread. Did he even see the cage anymore, or only the buttered mash? She gripped her rag until her knuckles went white. "If he only eats," she muttered to herself, "he will forget how to run."​#microfiction #aiart #vss

A Grimm tale: The sugar-coated bars tasted so good, but Hansel found them hard to swallow. The old woman slid a bowl of buttered mash through the grate, the scent thick and cloying. Hansel retreated into the shadows, his stomach tight with a dull, insistent ache. Every swallow felt like a betrayal of Gretel’s sobbing in the kitchen, yet he gripped the spoon until his knuckles went white. "Whether I am eaten or escape," he whispered to the dark, "I must first survive."​#Microfiction #aiart #vss