Wednesday, 19 January 2011


His soft skin was pale as driftwood; his hair as unruly as tangle weed. His slender body was featureless as a child’s, his hoofs like those of a goat.

He played a breathy, fey tune on wooden pipes.

Slowly, they approached, like the first hint of an evening star. Coy, delicate and pretty. Winged, tiny and bright.


They danced for him.

And when they tired they snuggled in amongst the curls of his hair and fell asleep. Then, one by one, he popped them into his mouth; crunching their bones carefully, quietly, so as not to awaken the others.


  1. There is plenty of imagery here for such a short piece, almost poetic in the reading.

    The last couple of lines add an unexpected dark side.

    Good Micro.

  2. He is quite the charming beast. You fit a lot in such a short piece.

  3. Thanks, Tim, I always try and do as much as possible with my words. It's important when you have so few. =)

  4. Ooh, wicked. Nicely done.

    Welcome to #FridayFlash.

  5. By the way, John, I'm running a feature (Pagan Fiction in 113 Words or Less) please visit my blog and read the guidelines. I hope you are interested.

    Here is the link:

  6. Thanks, Jon. Glad to be on board. =)

    And thank you, Magaly. I'm definitely interested. =)

  7. There's not a word wasted in this story and the final twist, divine.

    1. Thank you, Gayle, and thanks for the tweet. =)