The little girl stared as she licked her cracked lips. “You’re famished grandma. Go on. Have a bite to eat.” She said as she ladled some more soup.
“Yes of course, as soon as Jack is done. You too should taste this sumptuous lamb. ” Anita said cradling the bowl on her lap. She was staring at the boy with the knife in his hand.
He sawed through the bread, eyes aglow from the oven of clay. “Yes… yes… in a minute, but first you must taste it. It is sweet, very meaty, and cured with ale.” Jack said handing her a slice of bread.
Anita took it and stirred the soup with her spoon. Then she flicked her hair, shivering under Jack’s lidless glare. ‘Indeed it must be, but I couldn’t dare. What of yourself? Surely we must share.”
“Let’s eat grandma, I insist, do, please. We respect the old, we are young, we can wait. ” Jack said with a grin on his face, sharpening the knife with such relished delight.
Was it poison? Anita could not tell, for she was no grandmother to the twins in the woods. Yet she took a spoonful, smiled with teeth so white, and swallowed, watching their eyes swell with pride.