Sometime late last year, I was in something of a mood.
I’m not precisely sure what brought this mood upon me, but it resulted in a piece of flash fiction which can only be read as a parody of the fantasy genre that I adore, despite its many failings and flaws.
Since it’s short, and my writing group liked it, I figure that it could be shared here. This is in no way my usual style, but it was a fun diversion and a chance to write some faux-Shakespearean dialogue.
For this short story, think of Terry Pratchett, and you will perhaps have an inkling as to my intent. I could never claim to have an eighth the talent Pratchett carries in one little finger, but it was fun to write nonetheless.
This short tale has nothing to do with Eisengoth or the upcoming Elegy – it’s just something fun to share.