Join in my daily writing prompt! I don’t promise to respond to them all myself, but will try my best! Here is my response to the latest prompt.
More and more people were refusing to obey the rules of the land.
The little king paced the throne room, hands clasped behind his back, like he’d seen his father do so often.
‘Why are they disobeying me?’ He pouted.
The courtiers shook their heads and murmured that they had no idea, of course their king was upset, he had every right to be.
‘I’m obeying the rules myself. Why can’t they?’
More mutterings of yes, the little king was indeed obeying the rules himself, there was no understanding the minds of the people out there.
The little king clambered onto the great throne, which he was finding harder to do these days. He wriggled into the velvet cushions and crossed his pudgy arms over the bulk of his tummy. He would need new clothes soon. Wider ones. But right now he had this Big Problem to solve.
He scowled at the courtiers, noticing that most of them would also need wider clothes soon. Hmmm. He wondered why.
‘Well?’
Shuffling of fat feet on the marble floor.
‘Majesty?’
The little king humphed. He’d said he wasn’t going to listen to Nanny any longer. Not now he was a little king and not a little prince. She was always such a spoil sport. But maybe, just this once.
‘Yes?’ He glowered.
Nanny stepped forward, curtsied like she didn’t really mean it. She was one of the few courtiers who would not soon need wider clothes.
‘Perhaps, Sire…’ She smiled like she didn’t really mean that either. ‘Perhaps, young man,’ she said, stepping forward to poke his tummy, ‘the people are sick to death of rules which force them to eat ice cream, crisps and sweets, and drink soda for every meal.’
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