Last Light
A fairytale retelling
Frostbite bloomed in Anya’s feet. There were holes in her boots - so many in fact that she may have swapped her shoes with slicks of Swiss cheese, and wouldn’t have noticed a difference. She yearned to free herself from the sludge that was bloating her toes… but her father would never allow it. Her boots, along with Anya herself, cost more than they were worth.
“You are not to come home until every box is sold!” Her father grumbled, as he pushed her down the decrepit stairs. She landed knee-deep in the snow, followed by a sack of matchboxes. Without complaint, she picked herself up, heaved the rucksack, and got to work.
So many doors did she knock upon that Christmas Eve that her periwinkle hands began to split. Her hearty thud of a greeting faded to a pulse, until eventually all she could muster was a tap at the windows. She watched; the merriment inside each snowglobe home showcased to her precisely what she would not have even if she were to sell every box. With her heart heavy, as well as her rucksack, she trekked home.
Forethought had led her to prepare a bale of hay beneath the stairs. She bundled beneath, and with skeletal fingers, procured a match, and struck. The flame barely blinked. She thumbed the hay, thoughtfully... As it was, it wouldn't warm her through the night, but with a little kindling… “Just one more,” she promised, as she struck again,
“Father will never know.”
About the Creator
Rachel M.J
Magical realist
I like to write about things behaving how they shouldn't ~
Instagram: Rachel M.J
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Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
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Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
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Comments (25)
Congratulations on Top Story!
Congratulations on top story :)
This one is special in so many ways! I really hope to see this place in the challenge! Very well crafted. Congrats on the Top Story.
Well-deserved congratulations for your work—keep it up!
Congratulation!!
Congrats on TS!🥳
Congratulation
Congratulations🎊 👏🎊 👏 🥳
Well-deserved congratulations for your work—keep it up!
Why would frostbite blossom? It's like cake tasting bad or a tickle causing blood to run, even rain on a sunny day, or perhaps a forest fire in winter.
Like the classic it is heartbreaking and yet uplifting. Well done and Congratulations
Wow. This is fantastic! 🔥
This is a beautiful retelling of The Little Match Girl. Your vivid imagery in such a short piece particularly struck me. Well done, and congrats on the Top Story.
Beautiful job of retelling a classic with such heart and the bloom of a new perspective. I felt achiness stir as the story unfolded, but somehow there is some hope in the undercurrents of it, I think! Your words are lovely and so evocative, though - thank you for sharing.
This is so beautifully told. Congrats on the TS and good luck. I think you got a great chance with this one.
The story of the little match girl has always fascinated me, and when I read the title, I really hoped that's what this was about. You did not disappoint! I love this alternative ending where she gets to live thanks to her own ingenuity. Nostalgic!
oh wow! congratulations on TS. so well written and pulls you right in. My first thought was, "I'm so glad SHE's outside"
Lovely, lovely story!!
I love the part where you show her looking into the "snow globe" homes. I can picture her looking in on the scenes only the snow is on the outside with her. Great entry! Good luck!
Smashing entry, best of luck! I hope it places 😁
Awww. The little matchstick girl. Eloquently retold. Your skill of brevity shines here. You would not think there was a word limit. Superb turn of phrase.🥰
LOvely story and glad you got it past the line in time
Fantastic story!!!💕♥️♥️
This is wonderful.
Superb. Finally some hope in this story, yet you capture the heartbreak even still. My stomach aches with it, in fact, upon the reread. Those first couple paragraphs are gut-wrenching. I suppose the ending could be the same, but I like that you gave us a little glimmer, barely a blink.