Jane Jago’s Daily Drabble – One Hundred and Sixty-Eight

Kevin woke from a nice nap to the awareness of danger. It should have been midday, but the sky was purple dark. At first he thought The Wild Hunt rode the winds. Then he wondered if those other horsemen bestrode the sky on their pale steeds.

However it turned out that the disturbance was much closer to home – where the very earth buckled and heaved beneath one of the oldest stones in the graveyard.

Kevin dragged his heavy granite body over and lay across the upheaval.

‘Dig your way through a kobbold,” he thought grimly, then went back to sleep.

©️jj 2019

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