Her last moments haunted me.
Yes, she was a mean old
witch, but to think
how death washed over her
How she must have felt,
she had no
of her final words.
Toto sniffing the black pool
of her empty robes.
Jennifer L. Freed writes mostly poetry, and occasionally some short fiction. Her poetry chapbook was published in 2014. Other work can be seen at Jfreed.weebly.com
Who are they to call me wicked?
I may look different; my green skin may startle some. But what is the difference?
I have chosen my side, and it is with the talking animals of Oz.
People will fear me.
Not Elphaba Thropp.
But the Wicked Witch of the West.
Cali Chambers is a high school student who is currently attending her last year. She usually writes amusing little stories for her younger family members and has not done any successful creative writing for over the last four years (due to the increasing demands from her teachers.)
“We’re off to see the wizard!
The Wonderful Wizard of Schnoz!”
The producer cocks an eyebrow. “Are you serious? Who do you think you are, Mel Brooks? Because only he could get away with such a lazy parody.”
“I’m not Mel Brooks,” says the writer. “My name is Nel Crooks!”