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Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 23
Alf, who had acted like a troll and almost frightened the life out of Morris in his tent down by the lake, was now sprinting from a real, live troll. They hurtled around the trunk of a large oak tree and played tag: a game of death in Alf's case.
The troll's stamina seemed endless, and it didn't have the sense to stop and rest. First it rushed one way, then it changed direction and tore the other, and then back again, arms stretched ahead, reaching for Alf. Long legs and supreme fitness were to Alf’s advantage. An important part of his training was to skip and dance, but not for hours on end. His legs were now so tired that he stumbled on tufts of grass and roots, and his lungs were sore from all the panting. He wondered how long he could keep going before he fell, and then he’d have to wrestle with the monster. What a tragic end for such a talented bare-knuckle fighter as me, he thought, but the chance of me winning this tussle is like zero. At last, the troll stopped and glanced around. It bared its teeth and made a sound that Alf guessed was swearing in troll language. Then it stretched its arms around the tree to reach Alf that way. Luckily, the trunk was so thick that the troll's hands couldn't close; and there stood Alf, gasping for breath, midway between its knobbly mitts. To be continued… 
Image by adriankirby from Pixabay
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
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Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 22When Alf reached the large oak tree at the base of Trollop Knoll, he skidded to a stop on the other side, lent against the trunk, and heaved for breath. There was no point running further, the troll was gaining on him. Whatever was about to happen could happen here and now. And there came the troll, hissing and puffing like a berserk steamroller. The troll slowed its pace and trundled to a standstill. It sniffed the air like a bloodhound, followed its nose to the oak tree and peeked around the trunk. But Alf, who had regained his breath, dashed around to the trunk's other side. So it's come to this, thought Alf, a game of tag. Even though Alf was fitter than fit, and had the advantage of nimbleness, he didn't think he could play this game indefinitely; certainly not until the sun rose to turn the troll back to stone or make it explode. But for now, all Alf could do was stay on his feet, stay out of sight, and keep the trunk between them. The troll sniffed and followed his twitching nose around the tree. It trod slowly at first, and then picked up speed until the two of them tore along in a blurring headlong sprint. To be continued…  Image: Tree by Gert Aldmann The real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 21
Alf gasped. The troll had flung Crusher sailing through the air as if it weighed nothing. The robot was small but heavy, and even Alf with his colossal strength had trouble lifting it off its feet. The troll roared, clapped its jaws, and set its hungry eyes on Alf and his basket of magic toadstools.
If the troll got his hands on them, Alf had a hunch they would break the curse that kept the troll turned to stone. Then it would haunt the estate forever more, hiding under a bridge somewhere, terrorising passers-by. No, that would never do. As security guard, it was his job to keep trespassers out of the Cloud Estate, and that included trolls. Right now, however, Alf didn't feel so happy about his responsibilities. His future looked no rosier than Crusher’s. He spun and ran back through the trees as fast as his long legs would carry him, and the troll came thudding behind. Alf leapt over bushes and boggy puddles so fast that wind whistled in his ears, but the troll kept pace and drew closer. If only I had wings, thought Alf. But such equipment was for angels, not for sinners like him. To be continued… 
Image by Maurizio Lanciotti from Pixabay
The real world:
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth. |
James Field
Talvik, Norway You can also Find me on 
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