Chapter 3 - part iii

The quality of the food and the frequency of her good eating wrought a subtle effect on Sarah during her first month at college. It could have been much worse, except for the furious activity of class, friends, and her determined search for a boyfriend. The last part, especially, preoccupied her daily thoughts; small-town boys were behind her now, bring on the real young men!

At night she sometimes looked to Grimm's Fairy Tales and that one particular story, for some reason now her favorite. She hadn't particularly liked 'Hansel and Gretel' as a little girl. Sometimes, only sometimes, she would spend a few short minutes holding and admiring the old, pretty gingerbread-house and re-reading the story. Her dreams did not yet return to the happy fantasy from her first night on campus, but her mind did whenever she read about dear little Gretel.

... ... ...

Back in the dream...

A young woman poked her head out of the gingerbread house' chocolate window. She wasn't much older than Gretel, with short, curly dark hair and rosy cheeks. Somehow she was exactly the sort of plump, motherly woman that one might expect lives in a magical fairytale house, yet young and bright.

'And who are you, my little mouse, nibbling on my door?' She asked in a voice as sweet as the peppermint in Gretel's mouth, and wrinkled her nose when she said 'mouse.'

'My name... I'm Gretel... maam...' She set the unfinished candy down on the windowsill and knelt, trying to show sincerity and humility to the woman whose house she was just eating.

'I'm Gryselda. Little girl, how old are you? Fifteen, perhaps? What are you doing far out in the woods?' Asked Gryselda with loving concern.

'I'm eighteen!' Gretel protested and stood so she could give a little stomp.

'Oh my darling I'm so sorry! It's your height, I swear... You're such a pretty young woman but you're so short.' Gryselda darted from the window and came out the front door. She found Gretel blushing from both compliment and indignation. 'Oh, please, forgive me dear, I am so forward sometimes.'

'It's alright... I guess... I mean, I did eat your siding...' Admitted Gretel.

'Well, now that is understandable, I made it extra tasty if I do say so myself. Come in dear and tell me how you came to be here. Let me fix you something proper to eat.' Gryselda led her guest in by the hand.

Gretel found a large, soft cushioned, old-fashioned wooden chair waiting for her at the head of a large oak dining table. The table, bare at the start, was piled with fresh sweets and emptied again within an hour. Gryselda doted on her as she told the tale of running away to greener pastures. The motherly woman knelt over Gretel from behind and teased her with a gentle poke to her well-filled, slightly bulging belly.

... ... ...

Upon waking...

Saturday started with a fright, the old, oversized sleep-shirt from a few years ago seemed somehow less roomy than it ought to. Worse, her undergarments were actually a bit snug, and the excuse of 'it's just water-weight' was implausible to explain the softening of her waist. It didn't get any better from there.

In her opinion, there were far too many boys on campus and not nearly enough 'men.' While her grades were up, so was Sarah's previously perfectly trim figure. 'Boys,' she thought, might not mind a freshman 'chick' on her way to the fifteen, but Sarah wanted a man, her man, someone with standards and qualities... not someone looking for the next hookup over beer pong. Whenever an earnest young man declared her a vision of beauty, Sarah decided he must not be a real man. Whenever some crude coed derided the minimal baby fat on her frame, she turned up her nose at such a cad.

By far the most terrifying was the memory of that dream. Having a pretty 'witch,' as Sarah knew 'Gryselda' must be, flirt with her and feed her up brought out a wave of shame and confusion unlike anything she'd ever faced before.

It was all too much: her studies, her figure, her dreams and fantasies, and her failing hunt for a boyfriend left Sarah in a foul mood.