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New Fiction Friday! We are continuing our prompts based on the seven deadly sins and this weeks prompt was: It’s all about gluttony – eating and drinking to excess. Due to a wonderful comment by Renee, from Elsetime & Otherwhen, who was curious about what Snow White was thinking from my post Candy Apple Red, coupled with this weeks prompt I decided to try and bring the two together. All you need to know is that Princess Snow has poisoned her mother.

All concrit is welcome.

The Snow Princess, full of knowledge of the immediate future, raises her eyes to meet her mother’s. It never fails to annoy her just how much they look alike, and it terrifies her to see her aging future in her mother’s present. It is tantamount to watching her own death. She has made arrangements to end this torture. Her mother looks down at her and the Snow Princess is surprised to see resignation lining her mother’s eyes. She knows, the Princess thinks and wonders how her mother will avoid eating the apple.

When the apple is presented, the Snow Queen smiles, holds it in her hand, and as her white teeth bite into the impossibly red skin, the Snow Princess thinks, I wonder what my mother thinks now of her long ago wish of wanting a daughter that was, white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as ebony wood. She knows that she should feel something akin to regret, yet all she feels is the sexual flush of elation as it travels from her lap, up her belly, between her breasts, finally blooming in the white flesh of her cheeks.

Once her mother’s revolting convulsions have stopped she finalizes the moment, “You may all now address me as Queen Snow White.” The court claps their hands, then kneel on both knees bended. She scans the bowed heads unable to shake the feeling that something is amiss. “You may rise, let us eat and celebrate.”

Queen Snow White sits and finds herself ravenously hungry and for once allows herself to eat until full. Yet, with every bite she feels even more hunger and though her stomach is pressing against her lungs, it takes every bit of her enormous will to walk away from the table. How sordid, she thinks, to eat like a peasant in front of the court. Back in her chamber, released from the bindings of her gown, her stomach grumbles again. She bites the knuckles of her fist, fighting the urge to sneak down to the kitchen like a child.

Before the sun has fully taken over the night sky, Queen Snow White rises clutching her sides against hunger pangs strong as contractions. Frantic, she hurls herself from bed, and flings herself down the frosted stairs to the kitchen where she grabs handfuls of still piping hot bread shoving them into her mouth. She dips her fingers in honey, then warm slick butter. As she licks her hands clean, she’s already stretching for a roasting pig. Her fingers tear the meat, fat dripping down her arms, leaving long trails of blistering burns. She lifts a bowl of cake batter and drinks it. Then she convulses and splashes the stone floor with vomit of only partially digested food. Falling to her hands and knees she gasps for air, desperately hoping that whatever has seized her has now passed. Yet, as soon as her body has finished forcing the food out, the hunger returns. Her eyes spin wild as she searches the room for yet more to eat. She spies an apple gleaming in the middle of the table, red as a warning, and grabs it hoping for poison. Yet, when she bites into it she immediately knows that her release from this new curse, new prison, will not be delivered as quickly as death was for her mother. She remembers only now the warning of the Wiccan Wise, “Beware the price of changing fates.”

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