In the last post: Morris trembles with fear, and Alf congratulates himself for a good night's work...
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Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 15
I think I'll give Morris one final dose of my troll impression, thought Alf. He bent forward, swung his arms like a gorilla, and clumped around the tent, scratching and kicking it; all the while screeching his cacophony of animal impressions. Acting the troll was more fun than he'd had in years.
When he next gazed into the tent, he figured Morris had endured enough. The wimp had fallen to his knees, head bent, hands clasped in prayer.
Time to leave him and make my way home, Thought Alf. Best to stop before he becomes suspicious. It amazed him that people could be so gullible, even hardened unbelievers like Morris.
As far as Alf was concerned, overzealous writers and filmmakers had invented trolls, zombies and poltergeists; there were no such beings. The real world was frightening enough, without having to worry about monsters and spooks. No, it was all a load of old poppycock.
If the tables had been turned, and Morris had tried to frighten him with trolls, he would've laughed his socks off.
No matter how much I have, there's no joy unless I can share it.
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