His soft skin was pale as driftwood; his hair as unruly as tangle weed. His slender body was featureless as a child’s, his hoofs like those of a goat.
He played a breathy, fey tune on wooden pipes.
Slowly, they approached, like the first hint of an evening star. Coy, delicate and pretty. Winged, tiny and bright.
Fairies.
They danced for him.
And when they tired they snuggled in amongst the curls of his hair and fell asleep. Then, one by one, he popped them into his mouth; crunching their bones carefully, quietly, so as not to awaken the others.
There is plenty of imagery here for such a short piece, almost poetic in the reading.
ReplyDeleteThe last couple of lines add an unexpected dark side.
Good Micro.
Thanks, Steve. =)
ReplyDeleteHe is quite the charming beast. You fit a lot in such a short piece.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Tim, I always try and do as much as possible with my words. It's important when you have so few. =)
ReplyDeleteOoh, wicked. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteWelcome to #FridayFlash.
~jon
The Wild God gone cannibal; nice!
ReplyDeleteBy the way, John, I'm running a feature (Pagan Fiction in 113 Words or Less) please visit my blog and read the guidelines. I hope you are interested.
ReplyDeleteHere is the link: http://pagan-culture.blogspot.com/2011/01/pagan-fiction-in-113-words-or-less.html
Thanks, Jon. Glad to be on board. =)
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you, Magaly. I'm definitely interested. =)
There's not a word wasted in this story and the final twist, divine.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Gayle, and thanks for the tweet. =)
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