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Once upon a time, or a few times per day, we ponder just how many ways in which we must die. There are forewarnings. Let's consider the simple fairy tale - did anyone do a scientific study to check correlations of untimely death and not having read Little Red Riding Hood?

Little Red skips out the door. Let’s map this between the home and Granny’s house and the dark woods in-between.

I hardly want to do the reveal. I honestly don't. But let me tell you upfront: knowledge does not save you, shame that. The minute Mummy Red Riding Hood shoves her out of the door, we have a metaphorical death. Each step is a step away from her ever being a child again. It was wrong, someone should have thought ahead. Yes, Mummy Hood hadn’t read the story, it hadn't been written, but there were plenty of cautionary tales around. Perhaps she relied upon the old 'it never killed me' logic. As far as I know Mummy Hood hasn’t shown up once with any remorse. Maybe she was eaten too - wolves do hunt in packs...

step by step faith
walks unconscionable risk
on the daily path

Then, we must pile this bit on quite thickly…  She was told to stick to the path - moral death right there. It’s your own fault Little Hoodster, you made real bad choices.

if only I'd known 
the haunting of regret 
I'd have made different mistakes

Stay seated. We have a lot of death to fit in. This is choose-your-own-adventure. Hmm, let me jolly this up a bit. It was a beautiful sunny day and Red gathered wildflowers, the sort that would most definitely help her grandmother recover from illness (it’s all on you, Red, give it your best shot).  Those cakes and ginger ale are intended to save a life. I hope you ensure they get to her in time…

innocence and hope
it could all work out fine
just it doesn't

On another day, she might have encountered a better class of villain, the ones who like to assure themselves the victim deserves it, maybe spare them on occasion, but not this day. For this wolf was a psychopath, not just a baddy on the wrong side of the track. However, let us pause here. Let's saunter in how we lived, really lived, in this encounter. For he was wonderful. Attentive? Check! Charming? Check! Gnarly and undeserving of trust… Well, I for one don’t want to judge a book by its cover…

darkness is compelling
filling in gaps
when the lighting is good

We’re all happy, as far as we're aware. It’s the middle of the story. Yeah, Grandma needs those life-saving basket goodies, but the banter is great and hey, he’s impressed with how we select flowers, how thoughtful we are and oh, he’s just so interested in everything we have to say.  Could you not die right now of pure joy? But no one wants that, on with the story.

Knock knock knock - and into the prepared scene we go. Everything looking normal? Well, no, it all stinks, but that’s our lives - we couldn’t just stand up and walk out every time something feels off. Existentially, we die a little every time we override our gut instinct and carry on due to duty. 

Red, like us, hopes to get through this by making polite conversation. "Hello. You have big eyes. You have big ears. You have big teeth." Maybe a lesson in small talk might have meant they were still chatting now. I might have led with how I love how he wiggles his eyebrows when hungry and followed up with some questions of whether he can juggle. I may have died in half the time. As I said, no real answers lie here. But yes, she’s still on track for several deaths.

no scene is caused
by sticking to the plan
guts are spilt by the dutiful

I’ve tired of you now, my story-hearing friend, so I’ll throw a few at you at once. There’s a psychological death - it’s all so bad, it’ll stay with her. Trauma at the sight of ginger ale, a frilly nightdress causing mental collapse. Yep, it’s in the bag. What else? Oh yes, symbolic death… Something about never ever being the same again. Little Red Riding Hood is gone for good, just a shell remains - but the hood is still super cute! Most people are happy.

Does she then get eaten and stay dead? Maybe get cut out of his stomach? You decide. Temporary deaths aren’t so bad, are they? 

Do we need the wolf to get his comeuppance? Can do. Let’s fill his belly with stones. Unfortunately, he can’t tell other wolves, so it makes very little difference to the next girl. Just adds a little bit more about human nature. 

We should tie up some loose ends - who’s the huntsman? Why haven’t we considered he's removing the wolf's natural prey? Mr Macho Saviour caused this whole situation in the first place some might say (well, specifically me, I'd say that). But, he's the hero of the hour, speaking up would make me unpopular, shh... Let's call him the woodcutter as a rebrand.

I’m not sure anyone survived this tale without a death of some sort. Surviving just lets you fit in a few more deaths.

And they lived happily ever, erm… they lived in the moments of interaction, the packing of a picnic basket, of blissfully choosing life saving flowers, during pleasant conversation with an unknown stranger, in the moment danger passed and Granny and Red were saved. All just to die over and over again because it happened. Warnings don't help; people make errors. There's always a charming wolf to pay you undivided attention.  

And the end comes somewhere. I’ll call it here.

endings arrive
there aren't always new beginnings
some deaths are a killer
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