Gretchen had reread the letter until its news lost all meaning. Aunt Trudi was dead. She’d met her once, long ago, on a family visit.
Gretchen brought an apple as a present.
“Half green apples are poison apples,” her aunt said, and told her how witches made them.
For ages afterward, Gretchen had nightmares. Now she was weeping – not from grief, but freedom. She was free from Aunt Trudi’s disapproval, from her stifling veil of fear.
Gretchen wiped her eyes, and went to the kitchen. She knew what to bring to the wake: an apple pie – a brand new recipe.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-29 10:15 am (UTC)::gloves you::
That's beautiful, thank you!:):):):):):)
no subject
Date: 2005-06-29 12:26 pm (UTC)littlelot more.Still, Dancing and Glove before breakfast -- perfect.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-29 12:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-29 12:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-29 12:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-29 07:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-29 07:58 pm (UTC)But in the beginning, I got called Auntie because I'm short (and often tie my massive hair into a bun), like wearing lace, velvet and skirts and carry my ol' faithful doctor's bag type handbag that's served me for nearly ten years:). It is a bit like an old lady, but with a romantic twist of Krizu:). I'm more Maiden and Crone than Mother, and have a middle-aged woman's metabolism anyway, so why fight it;)...
no subject
Date: 2005-06-29 11:29 pm (UTC)I think I posted a link to it for you a while back, but you were still in uni, at the time, and couldn't listen to it... I could find it again, if you'd like...
no subject
Date: 2005-06-29 11:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-30 03:47 pm (UTC)