Day 19 of Poetry Week... A "Flash Fiction" piece..

                                     INTERVIEW WITH THE BIG BAD WOLF’S ANALYST

            I had been working with B. B. Wolf for about a year and a half.  He came twice a week, we would work in my office, discuss his dreams, etc. The usual analyst stuff.

Wolf had no insurance and was orphaned at an early age when his parents were killed by hunters, so I agreed to compromise and meet just twice a week even though in my opinion he needed the five-day routine.  His ideas were antiquated.  He was living in a world that no longer existed.  There were better ways to get dinner and I tried to make him realize that.  The huffing and puffing thing was a relic of the thirties. The only person who had that much hot air in his lungs was the president of that far away land across the sea and he built buildings, he didn’t try to blow them down.  (Blow them UP, maybe…but that’s another case story.) 

            Wolf had other interests but he was stuck in repetitive patterns of behavior. It is difficult, admittedly, to overcome stereotypes, the traditional ways in which we see ourselves.  Wolf saw himself as a predator.  But ultimately, as I could have predicted, he ended up as Wolf Soup, in the kettle hanging in the Third Little Pig’s fireplace. 

            I have never claimed that analysis always works.

© Sally Stevens 2017