This short story was written in response to Esther Chilton’s prompt word of the week. This week’s word is: Bridge…
When Esther suggested the word ‘Bridge’ for this challenge, naturally, I thought about trolls. That’s a logical step, right? Anyway, it got me thinking about the story of Billy Goat’s Gruff. And what did the troll do to shake off the embarrassment of having been bested on its own turf…?
Gundhl the Troll wallowed in the shallow water underneath the little stone bridge, having just been humiliated after his tussle with Big Billy Goat’s Gruff.
He couldn’t believe he’d been so foolish. Before Big Billy Goat’s Gruff, he’d encountered two perfectly adequate goats named Little and Middle-Sized who would have made for a perfect meal. They’d somehow talked him into waiting. Waiting for a meal consisting of both a full dinner and dessert in Big Billy Goat’s Gruff. But little did he know Big Billy Goat’s Gruff would be more than a match for him and would send him tumbling into the water. If Trolls could blush, Gundhl’s cheeks would be illuminating so red they would have stopped traffic.
A man in a grey suit and burgundy tie approached, rousing Gundhl from his stupor. Initially, he was going to let the man pass. He wasn’t interested in inviting any more humiliation today, but to his astonishment, the man came over to the side of the river bank and sat next to him.
“Hello there.” the man said, waving a hand.
Gundhl noticed he was holding paperwork of some kind.
“My name is Charleston White-Bonnigton,” the man said, “I’m a lawyer, and I’ve come to talk to you about this bridge.”
Gundhl scratched his head. He didn’t know how to respond to the human, but it didn’t seem to matter as the man continued talking.
“I don’t know if you know this, sir, but this bridge is owned by Mr. Clyde Papsworth, and he recently contacted me to advise that you’d been living beneath it.”
Gundhl nodded. He understood the local human language, even if he didn’t speak it.
“Well, Mr. Papsworth is concerned that you’re scaring off the wildlife and that you have no legal authority to be living here under his bridge. You’re essentially squatting, and Squatter’s Rights don’t apply to trolls, I’m afraid.” the man continued.
Another nod from Gundhl. It was the best he could offer.
“And besides,” the man said, “I just saw what happened. I imagine you’re feeling jolly embarrassed at the moment. But that’s ok. With these instructions from Mr. Papsworth arriving today and that… ahem… incident with the statuesque goat, this is the perfect time to move on. Go and find another bridge and start afresh! No harm, no foul, and we can put all this messy business behind us.”
Gundhl considered this. Perhaps a change of scenery was what he needed. He’d been jumping out from under that same bridge and frightening the crossers for years and finally he had had his comeuppance. Maybe it was time to find a new bridge. Find new people and animals to scare out of their wits. Could be fun.
He turned to the man and nodded again before pointing in the direction in which he would head to find a new life. He was going to do it! He was actually going to do it! It was all very exciting!
He couldn’t see any bridges though. It might be a long journey.
Best have a snack before leaving…
Dan Ince 
Leave a comment