• Disabled Tales
    • Poetry
    • Fiction
    • Essays
    • Art
  • About
  • Our Contributors
  • Submit
  • Symposium
    • Programme 2025
  • FAQs
  • Contact
  • Disabled Tales
    • Poetry
    • Fiction
    • Essays
    • Art
  • About
  • Our Contributors
  • Submit
  • Symposium
    • Programme 2025
  • FAQs
  • Contact

Sugar by Corinne Pollard

30/10/2025

0 Comments

 
A large tree in the middle of green woodland. Large white text reads: Sugar. Smaller text reads: Discussing disability in fairy tales and folklore.
A large tree in the middle of green woodland. Large white text reads: Sugar. Smaller text reads: Discussing disability in fairy tales and folklore.
Every witch has a magical familiar,
but outsiders cannot understand them.
They are a witch’s poison and puppet.
 
My mistress loved to bake. “To lure
the dear children in,” she’d say.
Their bones littered her garden.
 
Two brave ones tiptoed inside once,
without her knowledge,
without my usual warning.
I wanted to see how far they’d go.
 
The boy was on a mission,
his sweet tooth crying out
for the gingerbread men,
who waved, sneering and daring
the boy to munch on their bodies.
 
The girl was more cautious,
hesitating at the open spread feast
my mistress had spellbound eternal.
No one is able to resist, not even the girl,
and one bite can corrode control.
 
Like flies to honey,
the pair fluttered to the food,
and I sighed in disappointment,
aware that my mistress was hurrying,
salivating from my call.
 
Mistress trapped them in the kitchen
and prepared the oven, but
the fire refused to grow hotter.
The girl volunteered, claiming
she knew a trick with extra firewood.
 
She knew a trick indeed.
I watched helpless, as she pushed
my mistress into the oven
and sealed her inside.
 
My mistress burned.
Her screams polluted the air,
her fingernails marked the oven door,
as her flesh blackened to ashes.
 
I never saw the boy and girl again,
and though it pained me
to lose my mistress, my host,
I can’t say things will change much.
 
Mistress called me Sugar,
invisible, chronic, unknown,
whispering children inside
my gingerbread walls
like a sickness.

About the author: 
Corinne Pollard is a disabled UK horror writer and poet, published with Black Hare Press, Carnage House Publishing, Inky Bones Press, Graveside Press, Three Cousins Publishing, The Ravens Quoth Press, Raven Tale Publishing, A Coup of Owls Press, and The Stygian Lepus. Corinne writes reviews and the weekly newsletter for The Horror Tree. Aside from writing, Corinne enjoys metal music, visiting graveyards, and shopping for books to read. Follow her dark world on: https://corinnepollard.wordpress.com/
0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    Disabled Tales

    ​Discussing disabled characters in fairy tales and folklore!

    Categories

    All
    Aphasia
    Cinderella
    Cure
    Curse
    Diagnosis
    Disfigurement
    Fairy Tale
    Folktale
    Grief
    Hansel And Gretel
    Illness
    Jack And The Beanstalk
    Judgement
    Mental Health
    Pangur Bán
    Poetry
    Potion
    The Armless Maiden
    The Frog Prince
    The Green Children Of Woolpit
    The Little Mermaid

    RSS Feed

    Archives

    November 2025
    October 2025
    September 2025
    August 2025
    July 2025
    June 2025
    May 2025
    April 2025
    March 2025
    February 2025
    January 2025
    December 2024
    November 2024
    October 2024
    September 2024
    August 2024
    July 2024
    June 2024
    May 2024
    April 2024
    March 2024
    February 2024
    January 2024
    December 2023
    November 2023
    October 2023
    September 2023
    August 2023
    July 2023
    June 2023
    May 2023
    April 2023
    March 2023
    December 2022
    November 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.