The Troll - Part One
Idol Minor+, Prompt 3
Topic: Intaglio
THE TROLL
Part 1
There always comes a time to put away our childish things. Most of us do it on our own, when we’re ready. But for some, that time comes too soon and others do it for us. For Billy, that time was now.
Billy’s father had taken him out to Susie’s Diner for breakfast, which was a special treat. While they were gone, his mother had packed up all his stuffed animals in a box, and put it in the hallway.
When they got back, Billy knew what they’d done and started to cry, which irritated his parents and made his glasses fog up.
“Stop that!” commanded his mother, exasperated. “Don’t be a crybaby. You’re too old.”
The large cardboard box sat waiting for the trip to the Children’s Home. Billy managed to slip a tear-stained note inside: “Goodbye I love you all remember me.”
His parents would not have approved, but the animals felt a little better. How could they forget Billy? He had loved them and they had loved him, and that had made them alive.
But now they would not experience the slow fading of love, the gradual slipping into hibernation, the waiting for another child to love them. Instead, they were to be thrown away. Mom had said so and they were terrified. It was the worst thing that could happen to a toy. It meant oblivion.
Billy was in his bedroom, the fun drained out of it. He cried softly into his pillow, hoping his parents wouldn’t hear him.
“It’s time you grew up,” said his mother outside his door, before taking the box to the car. “You’re in the fourth grade! We couldn’t find your troll - where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
Billy’s voice was muffled by his pillow and the door.
“Don’t worry,” his father said to his mother. “We’ll find it and get rid of it. Just take the others to the Home.”
There was no Children’s Home and Billy knew it. It was just another lie. He needed his toy friends, not more lies.
Troll was Billy’s favorite and the leader of all his stuffed animals. Billy knew exactly where he was. Troll was gone, and that was all that mattered. He was safe.
Troll was big, about a foot tall, and made of a soft plastic. He had wild orange hair, a perpetually goofy smile, and his arms were stretched out, ready for a hug. He was dressed like a caveman, with leopard-skin clothes.
When the roundup started, he was near the pet door and darted outside. He could hear the screams of the others, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He also knew what all trolls know: when you lose your child, you go to Intaglia.
The First Troll had been created there, out of the stories the people had told each other in the dark. It was their true Home - where they would always be welcome and safe. But getting there was another matter. It was in a wooded, mountainous region of Germany, full of caves and rivers. It was locked away from the world of humans, invisible and timeless.
The only way to get there is to put one foot in front of the other, Troll thought.
So he took that first step and countless others, until he finally arrived at Intaglia, worn, battered, and almost without hope.
Intaglia was full of trolls. There were cave trolls, bridge trolls, toy trolls like Troll, and even fierce battle trolls, who kept everyone safe and loved to eat cupcakes. Garden trolls made everything beautiful.
Troll first met Grynk, a huge battle troll in armor with a spear, a shield, and a lunch bag. Battle trolls are never far from their next snack.
“Have a cupcake,” growled Grynk. “You’re new. You must have lost your child.”
“Billy,” said Troll.
Eating the cupcake made him feel new again. Chocolate had that effect on trolls, who could never get enough. Billy had diabetes, so they had never had treats.
Maybe I could be a battle troll, thought Troll as he ate his third cupcake.
“Come with me,” roared Grynk, banging his spear against his shield. Like all battle trolls, Grynk took great pride in the amount of noise he could make.
Grynk took Troll to an administration troll high up in a cave, and left. Administration trolls were few and generally cranky, but they were necessary and everyone pretended to like them.
“You’re Billy’s troll,” said Brzk, looking at Troll’s file. “We weren’t expecting you - he still needed you.”
“Billy’s parents . . .,” said Troll.
“That’s why he needed you,” Brzk said. “But here you are, and we have to do something with you.”
“What do you mean?” asked Troll.
“We have too many toy trolls,” said Brzk. “Read this information and come back in the morning.”
Brzk handed Troll several brochures: “Cave Trolls - Smash Rocks with Us!;” “Bridge Trolls - Fun Under a Bridge!;” “Garden Trolls - Play in the Dirt!;” and finally a thick “Rules and Regulations.”
They all contained beautiful intaglio prints. Trolls invented intaglio printing long ago and loved it so much that they named their haven after it. They were still the best at it.
“Nude Troll”
Artist Unknown
First Known Intaglio Print, circa 1400
Intaglio Art Museum
I’ll read Rules first, thought Troll. All trolls loved rules. There was a Rules Club which met once a month to enjoy old rules and make new ones.
I’m hungry, thought Troll as he left Brzk’s office.
Fortunately, Intaglia had many fine restaurants. Troll found Treats ‘n Things and piled a plate high with chocolate cake, brownies, and cookies.
The stuff of life, thought Troll as he went back for fourths.
(Part Two: https://rayaso.livejournal.com/45950.html)
Topic: Intaglio
THE TROLL
Part 1
There always comes a time to put away our childish things. Most of us do it on our own, when we’re ready. But for some, that time comes too soon and others do it for us. For Billy, that time was now.
Billy’s father had taken him out to Susie’s Diner for breakfast, which was a special treat. While they were gone, his mother had packed up all his stuffed animals in a box, and put it in the hallway.
When they got back, Billy knew what they’d done and started to cry, which irritated his parents and made his glasses fog up.
“Stop that!” commanded his mother, exasperated. “Don’t be a crybaby. You’re too old.”
The large cardboard box sat waiting for the trip to the Children’s Home. Billy managed to slip a tear-stained note inside: “Goodbye I love you all remember me.”
His parents would not have approved, but the animals felt a little better. How could they forget Billy? He had loved them and they had loved him, and that had made them alive.
But now they would not experience the slow fading of love, the gradual slipping into hibernation, the waiting for another child to love them. Instead, they were to be thrown away. Mom had said so and they were terrified. It was the worst thing that could happen to a toy. It meant oblivion.
Billy was in his bedroom, the fun drained out of it. He cried softly into his pillow, hoping his parents wouldn’t hear him.
“It’s time you grew up,” said his mother outside his door, before taking the box to the car. “You’re in the fourth grade! We couldn’t find your troll - where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
Billy’s voice was muffled by his pillow and the door.
“Don’t worry,” his father said to his mother. “We’ll find it and get rid of it. Just take the others to the Home.”
There was no Children’s Home and Billy knew it. It was just another lie. He needed his toy friends, not more lies.
Troll was Billy’s favorite and the leader of all his stuffed animals. Billy knew exactly where he was. Troll was gone, and that was all that mattered. He was safe.
Troll was big, about a foot tall, and made of a soft plastic. He had wild orange hair, a perpetually goofy smile, and his arms were stretched out, ready for a hug. He was dressed like a caveman, with leopard-skin clothes.
When the roundup started, he was near the pet door and darted outside. He could hear the screams of the others, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He also knew what all trolls know: when you lose your child, you go to Intaglia.
The First Troll had been created there, out of the stories the people had told each other in the dark. It was their true Home - where they would always be welcome and safe. But getting there was another matter. It was in a wooded, mountainous region of Germany, full of caves and rivers. It was locked away from the world of humans, invisible and timeless.
The only way to get there is to put one foot in front of the other, Troll thought.
So he took that first step and countless others, until he finally arrived at Intaglia, worn, battered, and almost without hope.
Intaglia was full of trolls. There were cave trolls, bridge trolls, toy trolls like Troll, and even fierce battle trolls, who kept everyone safe and loved to eat cupcakes. Garden trolls made everything beautiful.
Troll first met Grynk, a huge battle troll in armor with a spear, a shield, and a lunch bag. Battle trolls are never far from their next snack.
“Have a cupcake,” growled Grynk. “You’re new. You must have lost your child.”
“Billy,” said Troll.
Eating the cupcake made him feel new again. Chocolate had that effect on trolls, who could never get enough. Billy had diabetes, so they had never had treats.
Maybe I could be a battle troll, thought Troll as he ate his third cupcake.
“Come with me,” roared Grynk, banging his spear against his shield. Like all battle trolls, Grynk took great pride in the amount of noise he could make.
Grynk took Troll to an administration troll high up in a cave, and left. Administration trolls were few and generally cranky, but they were necessary and everyone pretended to like them.
“You’re Billy’s troll,” said Brzk, looking at Troll’s file. “We weren’t expecting you - he still needed you.”
“Billy’s parents . . .,” said Troll.
“That’s why he needed you,” Brzk said. “But here you are, and we have to do something with you.”
“What do you mean?” asked Troll.
“We have too many toy trolls,” said Brzk. “Read this information and come back in the morning.”
Brzk handed Troll several brochures: “Cave Trolls - Smash Rocks with Us!;” “Bridge Trolls - Fun Under a Bridge!;” “Garden Trolls - Play in the Dirt!;” and finally a thick “Rules and Regulations.”
They all contained beautiful intaglio prints. Trolls invented intaglio printing long ago and loved it so much that they named their haven after it. They were still the best at it.
“Nude Troll”
Artist Unknown
First Known Intaglio Print, circa 1400
Intaglio Art Museum
I’ll read Rules first, thought Troll. All trolls loved rules. There was a Rules Club which met once a month to enjoy old rules and make new ones.
I’m hungry, thought Troll as he left Brzk’s office.
Fortunately, Intaglia had many fine restaurants. Troll found Treats ‘n Things and piled a plate high with chocolate cake, brownies, and cookies.
The stuff of life, thought Troll as he went back for fourths.
(Part Two: https://rayaso.livejournal.com/45950.html)