Join us for a weekly blog party in Six Sentence Stories, hosted by Denise and attended by some mighty fine, fun folk. Prompt word=MARCH. Read, write and come back for more  SIX SENTENCE STORIES.  (Link goes active Wed night).

“That was…interesting…” purred Jimann, licking his lips and stroking the front of his neck, having resumed a human form, albeit a 15 foot one, “So interesting that I’m going to take you both—such experiences bear repeating; the deal is off and we’re going to play more, so march!”

“I don’t think so,” growled Fernlodth, turning his backside to the giant and nodding to Rockmouse, he dropped his trousers and bent over as the gnome woman brandished her Zippo.

“That won’t be necessary, you two, but thank you,” a tall, slender woman glided forward out of a low mist that had collected over the bay of the lake, her gown flowing, her skin shifting from midnight blue to deep green, red copper to quicksilver.

“You made a deal, Jimann, and you will be held accountable,” she reproved in her cool voice.

“On whose authority, you cold bitch?” snapped Jimann.

In answer, she raised her hand high over her head and began to rotate it around and around, clockwise for The Gathering…

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2026)

(To be continued)