Macfie woke late in the afternoon to a litany of curses coming from the garden. Stretching, he ambled out of the house to the back porch. Titch turned and, with disgust, pitched a holey cabbage towards the compost pile. “It’s those gods blasted pixies! Blast and damn them! I keep setting the copper lines around the cabbages, and the damned pixies steal it. Then the double-damned slugs get into the cabbages!” Titch threw his hat into the dirt and stomped for effect, punctuating his words with a hop and stomp. The man held in a laugh, knowing full-well that letting his mirth show was a sure way to send Titch into full-on meltdown. No one liked an enraged hobgoblin. Titch may be peaceable most of the time, but a hob was a hob, and hobs knew some creative ways to channel their anger if the mood catches them.
Showing posts with label End of an Age. Show all posts
Showing posts with label End of an Age. Show all posts
Saturday, April 27, 2019
Salt and Bone - A End of An Age Story #1
FALL
He carried the buckets slowly back up the rocky trail. The seawater sloshed gently in each pail, syncopated to the huffs of breaths as the man pushed along. This was the third such trip he’d made, and the exertion was starting to show. The little cove he’d found wasn’t easily accessible, but it was the finest source of clean sea water he’d found on the little island. An almost pristine clam bed and other shelled friends cleaned the water scrupulously and the narrow inlet reduced the exchange with the broader sound, giving the cove a chance to create a clean little corner of the ocean. And, better still, it seemed to be an unknown little gem, evidenced by the overgrown rocky trail and lack of any signs of humans and their inevitable mess. Clean water was important for the man’s task.
He carried the buckets slowly back up the rocky trail. The seawater sloshed gently in each pail, syncopated to the huffs of breaths as the man pushed along. This was the third such trip he’d made, and the exertion was starting to show. The little cove he’d found wasn’t easily accessible, but it was the finest source of clean sea water he’d found on the little island. An almost pristine clam bed and other shelled friends cleaned the water scrupulously and the narrow inlet reduced the exchange with the broader sound, giving the cove a chance to create a clean little corner of the ocean. And, better still, it seemed to be an unknown little gem, evidenced by the overgrown rocky trail and lack of any signs of humans and their inevitable mess. Clean water was important for the man’s task.
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