Today’s writing prompt and my response.
Day three for this week. Use the prompt however you like, one at a time, or pen a short story over as many as you like.
Excited, Follow, Moss: use these three words
‘Don’t lag behind,’ I said, tossing a warning smile across my shoulder.
The gaggle of youngsters trailing in single file between the moss-covered trees didn’t really need the warning. They kept close, giggling, jumping as they walked, peering into the shadows as if expecting the surprise I’d promised to be visible any moment now. Even the teachers bringing up the rear chatted and exclaimed, catching the kids’ infectious anticipation. I hoped they were capturing the moment in their memories, to cherish forever.
We went on this way for some ten minutes until we reached a fork in the path. I stopped, turned, and held up my hand for silence.
The nearest child hopped from foot to foot, wriggling their own hand in the air.
‘Please, Miss.’
‘Yes?’
‘Are we there?’
‘Nearly.’ I smiled again, a conspiratorial smile. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Melanie,’ she said, and when she smiled back, my heart did a little patter. This one, with her energy and interest, would be perfect. ‘Now,’ I said to the clustered group, ‘follow me down this path to find the surprise. It’ll be obvious, and I need you to just keep walking when you get there. Understood?’
Nods all round. The teachers nodded too. I winked at them. They turned their nods on each other, their eyes opaque.
Down a twisting trail bulging with tree roots, slippy with recent rains. Past a sprawling-branched, red-berried holly tree, past a clutch of dead bracken, and then to the wide willow, bare of leaves now. I paused beside a low, narrow gash in the trunk. Child height..
‘Right.’ I beckoned to Melanie. ‘In you go.’
‘In there?’ She looked at me, part wary, part excited by this unusual, and doubtless normally forbidden, adventure.
‘Yes, it’s fine – nothing nasty in there, I promise.’
She looked about for the teacher, but they hadn’t caught up yet. It was just me and the kids.
‘You really don’t want to miss it.’ I peered into her eyes, and she nodded, dreamily, and walked inside the tree.
‘Now you, and you …’ I gazed into each child’s eyes, waved them through, and in they went. A dozen or more.
The last had disappeared when the teachers came running, sliding in the mud, down the path.
‘What are you doing? Where are the children?’
‘The children are fine,’ I assured them, casting off my kind, elderly shape as my body stretched and loosened into its supple wood nymph form. I slipped inside the trunk, calling, ‘They’ll be back after Christmas. Santa needed some local help, you see …’ The trunk closed over, and there I was, facing a dozen astounded new elves.
I smiled, this time cheerily, encouraging. ‘Ready for a long journey?’
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