The Couch Troll

“Don’t do that.” The voice was deep and melodic. The old man gasped and looked in the direction of the couch. The moonlight spilled in through a gap in the curtains, and he saw a silhouette sat on the couch.  Panic seized the old man. “I’ll make this quick for the both of us. You’ve got something that belongs to me and I want it back – now.”

The old man reached further for the lamp switch but thought better of it, so he strained his eyes to see the stranger that rattled off a demand. “Who are you?”

“My name is Emos, and I want my skull back.”

The old man grabbed his chest and stuttered,  “You’re -- you’re crazy, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ bout’.

“Sure you do, I watched you take it.” The old man was speechless. Fear shadowed his heart.

“Get outta my house,” the old man demanded.  Emos laughed a husky laugh and said, “Give me the skull, and I’ll be more than willing to depart for my humble abode.”





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)