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    Mondays ~
    Tuesdays ~ Snarky
    Wednesdays ~ Dreamer
    Thursdays ~ Naughty
    Fridays ~ Dreary
    Saturdays ~
    Sundays ~

    Whenever ~ Smokey, Mighty, Eerie and Wicked

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Troll Mountain Retreat

Greetings and salutations loyal readers of the blog,

I’m glad you all made the effort to meet us on Troll Mountain. As you can see the vistas are spectacular. You’ll have to pardon me if I’m inattentive. Sleep is a rare commodity, because our hosts hunt us every night. Mischievous Raven and I must keep on the move. Mischievous is sleeping, he has to keep his wits sharp in case we encounter trolls at night. It’s his job to out riddle them. Trolls are fond of riddles, but they don’t like it when they get out riddled. Last night, the biggest troll I’ve seen on this trip cornered us. He was grayish-green with a large snot bubble that kept inflating and deflating with each rattling breath.

He snatched me up in his filthy hand. “Not a whole meal but you do for starters.”

I nearly blacked from the stench emanating from his mouth.

Mischievous flapped his wings yelling obscenities before he threw down the gauntlet.” That is my dinner, thank you very much. Give him back.”

“How can it be so when I’m holding him?” The snot bubble coming ever closer to me as I dangle in mid-air.

“Perhaps a game of riddles will decide the rightful owner,” Mischievous challenged.

“What does a bird know of riddling?”

Mischievous starts. “I am the beginning of the end, and the end of time and space. I am essential to creation, and I surround every place. What am I?”

Snotty Troll laughed, bursting his snot bubble, “That’s EEEasy. It’s the letter E. It walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon and three legs in the evening. What is it?”

“Is that all you got? Man or dwarves if you prefer the current example.” Pointing a wing in my direction. ” I never was, am always to be. No one ever saw me, nor ever will. And yet I am the confidence of all, to live and breathe on this terrestrial ball. What am I?”

“The future.” A new snot bubble is reforming, but his grip slackened slightly. “What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?”

Mischievous paused scratching his head. “A river, yes that’s it.” Strutting around doing his Mick Jagger impersonation. “At night they come without being fetched. By day they are lost without being stolen. What are they?”

This time Troll scratches himself, I won’t mention where in mixed company. “Give me another.”

“If you can’t answer I win.” Mischievous strutted about again. “I’ll take my dinner now, if you please.”

“Not so. You started, so I get ask you one.”  Troll frowned in concentration. “The more you have of it, the less you see. What is it?”

“Tricky one indeed” … Mischievous hummed.”

“Your answer bird, now,” Troll growled.

“All right all right. It is darkness. I win I win.”

“You must give me one more.”

“Do not.”

“Do so!”

“Not.”

“Yes you must.” Troll yelled, dropping me in the process of reaching for Mischievous.

I ran as fast as my short legs would carry me, this was not going the way I’d expected. Mischievous performed and inverted roll in mid air.

“The person who makes it, sells it. The person who buys it never uses it and the person who uses it doesn’t know they are using it. What is it?” Mischievous said as he led Troll in the other direction. Allowing me to escape we rendezvoused eary this morning.

Well enough of my adventures here in the land of the Trolls. We were going to talk about fictional characters this week. Since the sun is low on the horizon indicating our time is at hand I will be brief and we can pick this up again next week. In E. A. Poe’s The Tell-Tale Heart, the main character is never named. The story, told in the first person starts with his denial of his own madness. Instead he claims a clarity, or a sharpening of his own senses. In three pages we see this madman go completely off his rocker. Killing the old man and hiding his dismembered body below the floor boards. All the while crying his sanity, claiming that the old mans evil eye drove him to it. His denial of his own madness continues right to the end when he admits his crime to the officials. The man with no name tells a story of madness so intense and personal you can’t, not be drawn into the tale by him.

I’ve clearly run too long here, so have a great week and please tell me who your favorite fictional characters are in the comment box. We’ll talk about them next week.

This weeks quote comes from Cindy Williams.

“Dreams are the souls pantry. Keep it well stocked and your soul will never hunger.”

Write On,

Eerie Dwarf

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1 Comment

  1. Just one? *whine* Okay let’s see, I’ll start with Kate Daniels from Ilona Andrew’s titles. But then Gin Blanco from Jennifer Estep’s Elemental Assassin series would be jealous. Yet if we go back to the beginning…Han Solo, my original bad boy option!

    Reply

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