‘I heard you, Jack,’ he whispered in a voice like the wind. ‘I heard you trip-trapping over my bridge. And now I’m going to eat your life.’
I was only seven, but it was daylight, and I do not remember being scared. It is good for children to find themselves facing the elements of a fairy tale – they are well equipped to deal with these.
‘Don’t eat me,’ I said to the troll. I was wearing a stripy brown T-shirt, and brown corduroy trousers. My hair also was brown, and I was missing a front tooth. I was learning to whistle between my teeth, but wasn’t there yet.
‘I’m going to eat your life, Jack,’ said the troll.
I stared the troll in the face. ‘My big sister is going to be coming down the path soon,’ I lied, ‘and she’s far tastier than me. Eat her instead.’
from Troll Bridge, a short story in Smoke and Mirrors by neil-gaiman
Neilwykes@tumblr 2014 | Guimarães, Portugal.