Merry Monday writers, the weekend was a goodie and i’m back to work, in a non committal type way, the managers can get their heads together to work out a direction. And so with this in mind I will attempt to manufacture some sort of tale for Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge.
Hobbit houses are all very well for the folk in their 30’s and 40’s, with boundless energy and eagerness to DIY but the lack of understanding of what a money pit they actually are. When this becomes apparent it’s all too late, the kids have grown into Teenagers needing lifts here and there, the shops sell nothing but carpentry tools and garden tools, there’s no tubes, no busses, the only place to go out is the local pub who’s patrons constantly grumble about the elves and their open plan contemporary housing projects, building communities for the future generations. The ceilings are too low, the doors creak, theres no straight edges. Hobbits don’t seem to be thinking of the future; to them everything is how it should be, they don’t like change, and they bloody hate strangers.
Short and sweet, but this is what I’m thinking right now, middle earth is divided.