Remember the Crackleberries post? With the first bit of the Granny Battle story? About a boy called Ellis?
Well, here’s the next bit… once again, raw and rough, splurged out and barely edited… Hope you enjoy it!
Ellis opened his eyes, eased himself up on his elbows, and nearly screamed. A massive eyeball filled his vision, then receded slightly until it was two massive eyeballs surrounded by the loudest and ugliest pair of glasses he’d ever seen. He shuffled backwards on his bottom, stopping exactly on a large thistle. He opened his mouth to scream again, and below the loud and ugly glasses a hole appeared and a scratchy voice said,
‘Oh, for goodness sake – stop being such a big girl and get up.’
He was so surprised he got up, rubbing his bottom where the thistle had got him.
Standing in front of him was a short, dumpy old lady. She could have been your common or garden dumpy old lady, were it not for the fact that she was a) as previously mentioned, sporting the loudest and ugliest pair of glasses he’d ever seen, b) wearing what looked like chain-mail gloves that reached over her elbows, and c) was gripping in her left hand a small, orange dragon by the scruff of its neck. It dangled slackly, wearing a distinct expression of embarrassment.
She looked him up and down, and shook her head, tutting loudly.
‘Come on then, follow me,’ she said peevishly, ‘We can’t send you home looking like that can we?’
‘Like what?‘ Ellis thought to himself, still being a bit too stunned to vocalise.
‘Like that,’ the old lady said, waving her free hand vaguely in the direction of his left shoulder.
He suddenly became aware of the burny smell that had been tickling his nostrils, and twisted his head to look at his shoulder. There was a rather large, singed hole in his t-shirt, and reaching up to the side of his head, he found that where his hair had been been there was now a crunchy patch of stubble.
Then he realised what had just happened.
‘Oh, it’s not hard,’ the old lady said, ‘and no, you didn’t,’ as Ellis thought ‘How the… how did she… Did I say that out loud after all?’
By the time Ellis had recovered himself enough to remember to blink, the old lady had scrambled up onto the old platform and was stomping towards a gate in the battered old white fence, the orange dragon swinging from one hand, the other hand impatiently indicating him to follow.
Ellis blinked again, then for want of anything else to do, and still rubbing his thistled bottom, he heaved himself up onto the platform and followed.
Oh, this is fun!
Righty-ho readers, until tomorrow…
Update: Here’s the next chapter…
Chapter 3 – Tweaked odour eaters…