I’m an entire week late for this Friday Fictioneers entry, but the muse finally spoke.
Every week, about 100 bloggers join Rochelle Fields in the challenge to respond to a photo prompt with a 100-word story. This particular story, since its a week late, is also slightly over the word count at 111.
When Father placed Brunhilde’s gingerbread houses on display in the bakery, customers admired the ornate confections. One day, a woman came to the bakery with her small son. When the woman’s back was turned, her son plucked two pfeffernüsse off the roof of Brunhilde’s latest gingerbread house and stuffed them in his mouth.
Brunhilde flew into a rage. She never again created gingerbread houses for display in the bakery. She became a recluse, moving deep into the woods. Away from greedy fingers, she built her home of gingerbread and pfeffernüsse, held together and adorned by icing. Years later, her solitude was disrupted by the children you know as Hansel and Gretel.