She lay asleep inside her Guardian’s twisted fairytale cabin, seemingly peaceful yet unwakeable.
She’d been cautioned by childhood stories of forbidden fruit but Antanasia couldn’t resist the crimson apple the craggled old woman carried within the weathered basket on her arm.
With one bite she fell under the witch’s spell, imprisoned in her own nightmare, longing for her fair love to release her from this curse.
Written for Week 298 of Sonya’s Three Line Tales challenge. Photo credit: Toa Heftiba via Unsplash
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook. All Rights Reserved.