The Scribe
A good tale might be more magical than you think
An imperceptible door opened in the fieldstone fireplace’s rear and a small, barefoot creature stepped out. He made his way across the hearth to the weathered oak bar and struggled to pour himself a pint. Then he sat down in a dark corner and waited.
Moments later the pub’s front door unlocked. Tolkien searched the quaint room barely lit by the dying embers.
“I feared you weren’t coming back.”
“Aye. The journey’s getting increasingly harder,” the hobbit replied. “But someone must record these epic battles before all magic’s gone.”
Nodding, Tolkien poised his pen. “You left off where Gandalf and …”
No offense meant to one of my favorite writers whose epic story transported me to Middle Earth with just paper and pen. Thank you for the prompt Bill. How I would have loved drinking a few pints with J.R.R. Tolkien at the Lamb & Flag.
