300 Words, Day Seventy Six: The Walker

Mathilda watched the ripples in her tea, slowly stretching outward. Her eyes darted to the window that overlooked the valley. The ripples grew more intense, then the cup itself rattled. Deep in the earth, she could feel the vibrations rising through the floor of her cottage. She ran to window and leaned out, her whole house shuddering now, a pan falling from a hook and landing with a clatter. Her heartbeat slowed, falling in rhythm with the deep sound that approached from around the hill.

A great stone hand reached over the hill and dug its fingers into the ground. Mathilda took in a deep breath and stepped back into her house. The massive figure pulled itself up, revealing first a carved face with glowing eyes and a smiling mouth that bared great fangs. Beams of light shone out bright through its eyes, dancing independently of the other across the valley. The statue heaved the rest of itself over and stood at full height, seeming to reach the very heavens that must have imbued it with life. Symbols and figures were  etched all over its body, things that Mathilda could never recognize.

One of the beams landed on a patch of bare ground at the center of the valley, the other raced up to her cottage and illuminated her panicked figure. Mathilda couldn’t seem to move, though the statue had never tried to hurt her in all these years, its face was very unsettling.

The light seemed to leave as soon as it had came, and both beams focused on the ground. It approached the spot and knelt down, plunging its fingers into the soil. The air itself seemed to vibrate. Mathilda was hit with a sudden nausea. She clutched her stomach but couldn’t bring herself to look away. Soon all of the markings along the statue began to glow, from the lowest all the way to its head. Mathilda looked over at the forest and could see that another section of trees was wilting away, curling in on themselves and shrinking down to nothing. Then a beam of light shot up into the sky from the statue, a bright purple. It parted the clouds and disappeared.

Mathilda raised a hand to her mouth, fighting back tears. The statue stood and looked at her again with both eyes. That smile looked hungry. She wanted to scream at it, to plead with it to stop killing her home, but she couldn’t find the words. Then the statue was lumbering away, leaving behind a barren valley and a half-dead forest.

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Haiku-A-Day #278

Thundering footsteps
Massive vagabond statues
Roaming the country

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Haiku-A-Day #277

When it rains it pours
I forgot my umbrella
Soaked down to the bone

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Haiku-A-Day #276

Not yet Halloween
Yet stores put up Christmas stuff
What is up with that?

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Haiku-A-Day #275

Chasing the dragon
You will never capture him
At the needle point

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Haiku-A-Day #274

Rusty spectacles
Lenses shattered long ago
Resting on a skull

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300 Words Day Seventy Five: Feasting

The celebration lasted well into the early morning. Snoring bodies littered the forest floor, curled up in the roots of trees or under the massive table that held the last crumbs of a great feast. The leaves themselves cast off a warm glow, illuminating the space. He looked up at the night sky and could just make out a few constellations he learned as a child. Absent clouds provided a clear view into the heavens.

His small hand raised another cup to his lips, splashing  a little when he hiccuped. Looking around, he realized he was the last one conscious. A small smile plastered itself on his face. Stumbling a bit, he moseyed over to the table and  grabbed the last leg of turkey, cold by now, and chomped into it. He picked feathers out of his teeth and plopped down on the grass.

Goose bumps started popping up all over his arms. A chill ran through him and he shuttered. The leaves dimmed with a breeze blowing through the trees. He felt the sudden need to look behind him, panicked. Prepared to flee, his tense body relaxed at the sight of the most handsome gnome he had ever seen.

The mysterious gnome approached him, smiling all the while, and offered a gold goblet filled to the brim with something irresistibly aromatic. He couldn’t help but take the drink and consume it all in a single gulp. He finished with a belch and tossed the cup aside, looking up with pride, but the stranger was gone.

He stood, a little wobbly still, and his stomach growled. He realized how hungry he was already. Seriously hungry. So much so it nearly hurt. Remembering he had just eaten the last turkey leg, he searched the baskets for more food. Nothing. He turned back to the clearing and stopped, blinking a few times. Where his friends had just been sleeping were now piles of the most wonderful smelling meats he had ever laid his eyes upon.

In no time, the gnome pounced on the nearest morsels and began eating violently, tearing off steaming pieces and stuffing his gullet. Nothing seemed to satisfy his hunger. He moved all about the area, eating whatever he could find, covered in bits and juices. All the while being watched by a figure in the shadows who laughed and laughed and laughed, waiting for the screams to start.

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