Long version:
“We’ve got to have an old pair of your mother’s long boards…er…skis, somewhere here,” Magnhildr crouched and twisted as she snaked her arm through the stacks of children’s skis. “She was full grown when she came to foster with us, so they should work for you, as well.”
Hjordis stepped anxiously from one foot to the other, her troll’s tail twitching, as she peered past the snow giant’s thigh Continue reading
This week’s prompt from Carrot Ranch was to write a microfiction off the prompt “A rabbit on the roof.” Challenge accepted. Hope you all enjoy and empathize!
Creds to Wild Hare (Merrie Melodies. 07/27/1940)
A Wild Hare: Post-pandemica
I looked in the mirror, unsure. Six months quarantine, but now it’s safe to go out. I stepped out back, hesitating to shake free the sheet full of recently cut hair. Could this be used? Continue reading
“You sure this is gonna work, Jonas?”
“Have I ever steered you wrong before, Boy?”
Peter muttered, “Only for a higher purpose. Or so you say.”
Jonas grinned, his double row of needle-sharp teeth glinting in the cavern’s incandescence. His hearing was quite acute, even for a centuries-old creature as himself. Continue reading
The Chevy accelerates and tops the hill’s summit, before twisting and plunging into the ravine. A duffle bag and body detach, and arc onto the dirt shoulder. They disappear into the dust cloud created by the truck’s struggle with the gravel road. Continue reading
Source Denver 9News.com
Down they come, twirling, sun-sparkling, lilting in sudden gusts. Daisies dancing in summer–except it’s winter. The falling flowers are snowflakes. Continue reading
“The best-laid plans.”
“The egg unhatched.”
“The circle, its ends unmet.”
“A triad missing its third…”
“Thus only a dyad.”
The nave is cold, cheerless,
No sun to set stained glass windows afire with stories. Continue reading
Image by Annalise Batista from Pixabay
Extended version: Take a Chance, Change Your Life
We were never quite clear about how they got into the tool shed, how long they’d been there, or where they came from originally. They’d arrived before we did, and will likely leave long after we’ve gone. If they ever do leave. Continue reading
Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger
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Valley of the Trolls 