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Everyday Drabbles #376: Bellerophon

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Bellerophon sat in Elysium, dejected. All about him the other heroes feasted, fought, and competed in games of strength and skill, but he could find no peach.
Cadmus crouched beside him and asked what was the matter.
“I’ve been forgotten, Cadmus. The gods have abandoned me and the poets give other heroes my deeds.” He glared daggers at Perseus, who was absorbed in a game of mancala with Theseus. Cadmus sighed. This again.
“We’re dead, my friend. And well beyond such concerns. Just enjoy yourself. Unless you plan on storming Olympus again. Oh no.” That was when the trouble started.

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Everyday Drabbles #375: Ringfort

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It was nearly sunset by the time the knight reached the old ringfort. . He’d heard the moss-covered ruins were a hideout for outlaws, and he was there to bring an end to their raids.
He searched in the lengthening shadows, but could find no trace of the supposed bandits. By the time he was finished, the sky was dark and the first stars had appeared.
He went to make his leave, but could find no exit in the earthen walls. He turned back and heard music and laughter coming from the main hall. He went in and joined the feast.

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Everyday Drabbles #374: Witch Melons

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He found the strange seeds in a corner of his barn, and planted them to see what would happen.
He couldn’t identify the vines that grew from them, nor the hard, waxy fruit that they put out. He decided to call them witch melons, and waited to see what would happen.
One morning in late summer, the vines were empty. He thought deer or raccoons had gotten to them, until he found the strange creatures in his yard. They had green carapaces and soft, red bellies, with scorpion-like pincers and fish tails.
He raised them, to see what would happen.

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Everyday Drabbles #373: Shield

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After saving her life, the witch gave the prince a magic shield.
“This will come between you and any that might harm you,” She said, smiling.
On the battlefield, it worked even better than she’d promised, seeming to move on its own. But he saw its true value when he came home, and it fell from its rack and onto an assassin.
After that, he wore it everywhere, and trust those around him less. He refused to see kith and kin, and violently resisted their attempts to separate him from it.
The witch’s proclamation had been a curse, after all.

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Everyday Drabbles #372: Spaceport

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Mosi hates the spaceport. He knows that business has been booming ever since it went up. But every hour, a rocket kicks up a sandstorm of grit and dust, and he has to scramble to cover his wares before the cloud reaches his outdoor stall. He’s spent a fortune cleaning and upgrading his gear to deal with the damage.
He wishes he could afford to hire an assistant, or better yet, get out off the surface and start again in the clean, sterile environment of a space colony. For now, he wrestles with his tarps, and dreams of the future.

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Everyday Drabbles #371: The Sound of Sirens

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Mike awoke to sirens. He hurt all over, and his head pounded like a jackhammer. He tried to move, and found he was tied up. He finally opened his eyes and the world was barely visible through a white haze. He’d been rolled in a sheet and tossed in a dumpster.
He managed to climb out and tried to get his bearings. His memory was a mess, and he couldn’t piece together what happened.
The sirens were getting closer. He had a feeling he didn’t want to be here when they arrived.
That was when Mike realized he wasn’t breathing.

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Everyday Drabbles #370: Lichyard

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The undead wizard planted flowers by starlight and pulled weeds by moonlight. Under the cover of darkness, he planned and constructed his garden, having procured his supplies through daylight minions.
He had loved gardening in life. He didn’t see why he should give up his hobby just because he could no long stand the sun.
He planted much of the garden with nightblooming flowers. Chocolate daisies and moonflowers were heavily favored. But he also kept his old favorites, out of nostalgia.
One evening, he awoke to discover his whole garden had been trampled. Adventurers were getting on his lawn again.

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Everyday Drabbles #369: The Spirits’ Forest

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There was some debate over whether the human had entered the Spirits’ Forest on accident, but there was no doubt among them that they did not care for his attitude. The spirits had him held fast inside a fallen tree while they debated what was to be done with him.
“This is my forest! Don’t you know who I am?” The human shouted. Attempting to point to the little metal hat on his head. “I’m the king!”
The spirits spent a long time discussing what that meant.
The human was noisy, but after a few hundred years, he calmed down.

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Everyday Drabbles #368: The Forest Gallery

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The found the first statue at the edge of the Elves’ territory. It was a figure carved of living wood, ten meters high, extending a hand in friendship. The ranger spoke as they walked.
“Elvish artists spend their whole long lives making these. Being chosen as a Treeshaper is a high honor.” More statues lined the paths, from great beasts and noble heroes to geometric patterns that fooled and delighted the eye.
They stopped short when they came to the grove of giant toilets.
“The arts community went through a, um, protest movement five hundred years ago,” the ranger explained.

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Everyday Drabbles #367: Mirrors

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When she entered the dusty old general store, the man behind the counter welcomed her and asked what she was seeking.
“I want to buy a mirror,” she said. He placed three hand mirrors on the counter.
“These mirrors each show something different: Lost loves, your hearts desire, or the future. But each has a terrible cost.”
“Bob, I just need a regular, non-enchanted mirror. Do you have one?”
He looked embarrassed. “Ah, not really, no.”
She sighed. Now she’d have to drive the hundred miles to the big-box store. Someday she’d get out of this dying New England town.

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