Hi and welcome to Short Story Saturday! This first story is VERY short, but I like it a lot, so here it is. Last night I was having trouble sleeping, and six bats flew in my window and sang this story to me, so that's how you know it's true.
Once there was and once there wasn't a man with skin like burnished brass. He lived by the sea and hated it; it made him feel like an egg that had been cooked too long. Besides, he was covered in verdigris. "I'll go to the mountains," he said to himself. "Roland," said his mother. "Stop talking to yourself and come eat dinner." Roland's mother was Parvanderina Nelson, and she was an accomplished cook. She had cooked a whole duck that had been wrapped in puff pastry and stuffed with spiced fruit. "You know I don't like fruit," said Roland. "Don't be ridiculous," said Parvanderina Nelson, who was carving the duck with a sharp knife. "If you'd eat more fruit, you wouldn't be covered in moss." Roland walked out to the road to hitchhike to the mountains. A grey dire-wolf stopped for him. Everyone else was going to the sea, not away from it. The dire-wolf was taller than Roland, which was not saying much. It was a frightening beast, but Roland was only afraid of apple-head chihuahuas, so he climbed on the dire-wolf's back and they went off on their journey. After a day and a night, they had made it to the mountains. Roland was already beginning to look more lustrous. His skin shone in the cold sunshine. (Also, the dire-wolf had been licking off the verdigris whenever they had stopped to rest.) "This is great," said Roland. "No more ocean, no more ducks in pastry, no one telling me not to talk to myself." At that moment Roland felt the earth shake. He had never felt the earth shake before, but as he only feared apple-head chihuahuas, it didn't alarm him as much as perhaps it should have. A giantess plucked Roland from the ground. She was at least three times Roland's size. Her hair was black, the texture of lamb's wool, and she had one eye. She dropped Roland delicately into her breast pocket and continued on her way. Roland fell asleep to the sound of the beating of the giantess' heart. When he woke up, he was on a table in a large cave. There was food and drink all around him: cheeses, bread, grapes, chalices of wine. A fat bird hopped around Roland as he ate. "She's going to eat you," sang the bird. "She's going to roast you in brown butter." But the giantess didn't eat Roland. When she returned, she fried the fat bird in breadcrumbs and milk. Then she put Roland back in her breast pocket and walked out of the cave. Roland peered over the edge of the pocket and breathed in the crisp night air of the mountains. The giantess and Roland gazed up at the stars. Roland's skin gleamed in the moonlight. The giantess slept with Roland in her breast pocket. After twelve days, she dreamed the dreams Roland used to dream, but Roland never dreamed again.
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AuthorArtist, essayist, divinity school dropout. Here for a good time, not for a long time. Archives
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