Continuing on with the Viking theme, here’s an excerpt from a short story I’m working on, “There Are No Vikings in Montana.” Jill has been seeing some weird stuff recently, and now she thinks she’s seeing a Viking too. She’s finally confronted him.
“Who are you, and why are you following me?” I demanded.
He didn’t respond; the look he shot me implied this was a stupid question, that I should know the answer.
“Ever since the fireworks, when the world shuddered, for lack of a better word, I’ve been seeing stuff that shouldn’t be possible. I nearly ran over a chupacabra, a tree straightened up and waved at me, and now I’m being followed by a guy in a leather kilt and a horned helmet. No one else is seeing this, but I’m not making it up, I swear!”
“It was a dryad.”
“The tree; it was a dryad.”
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How funny and different is this, I ask you! I love it. A dryad, forsooth. Thanks, ED.
Yep, that guy’s gotta be a viking. I like how he avoids her question of who he is by emphasizing the tree.
lol. Love this. His dry correction of her, coupled with his look…just love it. Can’t wait to see more.
Hah! Running over a chupacabra would put a dent in your day, for sure!
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