A darkling drabble offers a shiver of horror in a hundred words…
He was a big plain-faced man with a small, brown wife. Nobody would’ve taken a moment’s notice if they hadn’t found oil on his land.
Suddenly he was accounted handsome and his wife insufficient to his new status. They weathered the storm, until the young wife sickened and grew frail. The farmer unearthed the moppet with her hair and menstrual blood and burned it, but the need for vengeance was aroused.
It cost a great deal of money, but he accounted it worthwhile when the smallpox left every woman in the valley scarred – except his own little brown wife.
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