I hope everyone is having a good night and a good Saturday. I had a really enjoyable day myself, which is why I am getting to doing a little bit of writing quite late in the day. But I am still getting it done (victory!)
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Prompt: Everyone in your neighbourhood has had their garden gnomes stolen recently. Who has been stealing gnomes and why?
Genre: Fantasy/Supernatural
Source: 50+ Flash Fiction Prompts To Inspire You 🖊️ | Imagine Forest
Time Spent: 60 minutes
Word Count: 1040
Prompt: Everyone in your neighbourhood has had their garden gnomes stolen recently. Who has been stealing gnomes and why?
It is a testament to how slow the daily life of the small village I lived in was that it was positively a scandal when garden gnomes started getting stolen. Now, some of you might think of Garden Gnomes as a rarity these days, but it had long been part of the traditional aesthetic of the town, and with the mixture of passive-aggressive comments and silent judgment, most people simply found it easier to have them (or keep them up, rather, as most homes seemed to come with them).
It started with Mrs. Tweed’s garden, her prized and antique pieces, as she never tired of telling everyone, were simply gone one morning. The ground around them was disturbed and her garden fence was left wide open. The town was abuzz with gossip and rumor by lunchtime, with the small constabulary of the town going around and asking questions, and, mostly quiet, finger pointing, particularly at the town’s ‘youths’.
The next night, the gnomes from Mr. Ledbetter’s garden disappeared, ‘fine pieces passed down from my grandfather’ he would always emphasize. Then the Carstairs’ “finer craftwork I am sure you’ve never seen” gnomes, then Old Lady O’Hare’s “look at the detail work on then, would you”, then the Boyle Sisters’ “you can see how well we take care of them, polish them every Sunday we do”, and on and on and on until yesterday, when my three Gnomes were taken. Same as everyone else, disturbances in the ground and my garden gate left open.
The town was positively in an uproar, every page was the Village Post was full of opinions and speculation. The local cafe and pub were, if anything, worse. What was particularly driving the speculation wild was that nightly patrols of the streets, at least half the village staying up to watch their gardens, and at least a dozen different varieties of security camara’s and alarms all failed to catch or see anything. Searches of the whole village, including homes, and multiple rounds of questioning of everyone failed to turn up anything at all. With the last Garden Gnome gone, and seemingly any chance of catching the culprits red-handed, the whole village seemed to sink into a deep depression.
Three days after my Gnomes disappeared, I decided to take my dogs, Hill and Dale, out for a walk and, since it was a pleasant evening in late spring, I took them for a longer walk around the outskirts of the village. The dogs were having a lovely time bounding as far as the leashes would allow, sniffing various things, until we reached the a turnoff where a slim path led into the woods. Both of the dogs started whining and panting excitedly and would not allow themselves to be pulled way. Even the peanut butter treats I had in my pocket were insufficient enticement.
The dusk was already quite deep and the light almost gone, but finally, I sighed and followed Hill and Dale’s lead. They practically dragged me down the path to the point where I nearly had to run to keep up with them until we had gone about a quarter of a mile into the woods, where suddenly they stopped at the top of a low rise and waited for me to catch up.
At the top of the rise, I looked down into a small glade to see everyone single Gnome from the village. I pulled out my phone to take a picture, and was just trying to get a good focus in the limited life, when I noticed that the Gnomes seemed to be. . .moving. Out of an odd instinct, I crouched low and inched closed. As if nature itself wanted to help me, a cloud that had been covering the moon drifted away, and I saw below me more than a hundred Gnomes, but instead of being made of stone or ceramic, they all seemed to be flesh, albeit with rather stony looking skin, and clothes made of cloth, and the various tools they held being quite real. They were all gathered around a large rock at the center of the glad where a Gnome that I did not recognize stood, carrying what appeared to be some kind of staff, and was talking to the crowd in a language I did not recognize.
Luckily, the dogs seemed to be unsettled by this too, because they did not resist this time when I turned and fled in shock, and just about ran all the way back home. After I had given my dogs’ several treat’s I head out to the pub. Halfway there, I saw that much of the village was gathering in our small town-council chambers, so I went there instead.
I walked in, joined the queue for the completely unnecessary microphone, and waited patiently for my turn to speak as three others of the village proposed their theories or made wild accusations. When it was my turn, I stepped up to the microphone, cleared my throat, realized that I was likely to be treated like the village loon, but went ahead and told the assembly what I had seen.
When I finished, the stunned crowd erupted into spattered laughter, chatter, and a few accusations of being drunk and/or stoned. It was as I expected from the crowd, but I was puzzled that the five person Town Council had grave looks on their faces and had not dismissed what I had said, or said anything.
Finally, the crowd quieted down on its own and turned toward the council in expectation. After a few more grim glances between them, the chairman of the council, Simon Carstairs, leaned forward, cleared his throat, and said, “a thing has happened that has not occurred for more than a century, the Gnomes have been freed from their curse. We encourage everyone to lock their doors and windows tight, stay together, or avoid going out at night. We and the young fellow who brought us this news will be going presently to Old Lady O’Hare, she’ll know what to do next. Now, go home, stay safe, council meeting adjourned.”
Safe to say, this left us all open mouthed. It was certainly NOT what we were expecting to hear.
I had some fun coming up with this one. Thank you all for reading and I hope to read your feedback.
Hope you enjoyed and that you are having a wonderful day and get to do, or experience, something creative.
– Jon
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