Monthly Archives: March 2019
The snow kept falling thicker and thicker. Whirling, blowing, biting, cutting. Clinging to his whiskers, to his eyelashes, to the hair on the side of his face. His nose and cheeks had grown numb, his fingers so cold he could no longer bend them. When he tried to raise them to his face to brush the snow out of his beard, they felt like hard claws on the end of big, clumsy, fur-covered paws; claws that had no feeling in them and could not move to his will.
He tried to climb up the side of the ravine, reached for a snow-covered branch. Could not close his hands on it—where were his thumbs? He staggered on his clumsy legs, then dropped down onto all fours.
Like an animal.
Keep reading this story on Enchanted Conversation Magazine
I wrote this last November during NaNoWriMo, when I was doing a retelling of “Snow White and Rose Red“. It was sort of a prologue to the story, the moment when the “prince” turns into a “bear” – except in my adaptation, he’s not a real bear, just a very hairy guy (and he’s not a prince either, being an ordinary 21st century Canadian). But then it occurred to me that this could work as a standalone Flash Fiction, a regular adaptation of the regular fairy tale, so I sent it to Amanda at Enchanted Conversation. And here it is.
You can decide for yourself if you want to take the transformation as an actual guy-turned-into-bear thing, or keep it metaphorical. I’m not entirely sure yet which one I prefer.
I’m on a few weeks’ family visit in The Old Country (hence the long radio silence). Here, for your delectation, is a random and interesting little thing I noticed while stopping in at the Stiftskirche (Collegiate Church) in Stuttgart for a break during a shopping trip the other day: Chainstocking Feet.
This guy is one of a profusion of Eberhards and Ulrichs, Dukes of Württemberg, pictured along the side of the choir. The sculptures are from the late 16th century, but I assume the depiction of medieval armour is reasonably accurate.
Some of the others have plate-armour shoes, but this guy (he’s an Eberhard; to be precise, Eberhard I the Illustrious, 1265-1325) and his immediate neighbours have chainmail stockings all the way to their toes. I guess they wouldn’t have been much good on foot.
Also, the lions they’re standing on look thoroughly unimpressed. I guess having a dude in full armour planted on your head doesn’t feel all that great, whether they’re wearing steel shoes or chainstockings.
In brief, that’s Life, the Universe, and Travel Time. Keep your chainstockings dry!