Little Girl, You Are So Lost

The sun beat down on the desert path that snaked through a wide thick forest, which was surrounded by an ocean of more desert. Skipping and dashing and spinning her basket, our heroine enters the scene and releases a perfume of lavender into the hands of the desert and jungle. An oasis of nothingness for miles and miles with this hostile heaven bent into purgatory and scolded with the sweet dreams of hell, smack bang in the middle. A solid pond of gas spills into view and mops the worry from our heroine's thought. She casts off her robe, throws her basket into orbit, and dives sideways into the fumes of relief.

And at that very moment, dear reader, our now valorised and vicious villain pounces into view and brings with him the story's complication.

The white monster of legend takes the gown from the ground, and uses his sharp claws to liberate the pretty red ribbon from the basket's accessorial inventory. He uses the ribbon to tie his hair back revealing sideburns that cover his entire body, culminating at either end: a diminutive mohawk, and a diminutive tail.

"Oh little girl, you are so lost."

This reservoir dog chases the lavender scent around the pool of smoke until the follicles of his suit are covered, filled, fixated with our heroine's essence. He picks up the basket in his clutching claws and clambers clamourously over the cleft of calamity and out over the clearance.

And it is here that we discover the predetermined destinies of the delightful duo: a clairvoyance that brings closure to our beloved characters, but forces our instantaneous and eternal departure.

Our heroine finds her true self, her purpose, her sandals. The villain finds the love of his life and sandwiches.

Unfortunately the parcel has been pilfered and the penurious purloiner has perished in his perfect paradise. And as such, the grandmother falls to sleep with nothing to save her.

And now we may only return when the amaranth fades - from pink to an anaemic grey.

Little Red Riding Ethan..