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Rated: 13+ · Book · Comedy · #1609808
A brief story of my late night exploits, and my discovery of a sentient species.
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#672355 added October 19, 2009 at 4:05am
Restrictions: None
Gnomes?
---939 Words---



         I believe myself to be of a sound mind.  I don’t see strange things in the middle of the night, nor do I have any of those crazy “government conspiracies” like the one my neighbor two houses down the street has.  I don’t check my phone for bugs or anything, and I can pretty much go through the day without wondering if any spy network is watching my every movement.  That is why I really want you to believe me right now.
         It all began last night.  I was taking a stroll through the forest, (completely sober I might add) musing on about things like girls, my job, and my college work, when I stumbled across something that just might have thrown me amongst the ranks of all the crazies that we know. 
         I saw a small… thing scurrying from underneath the brush, making funny noises and running for its dear life.  I jumped out of the way.  I really did not want to get a disease or something.  A crow flew past me, squawking at the top of its lungs, chasing its prey.
         In my defense, I thought it was a possum.  Okay, it was dark, anyone could make that mistake.  I stared at it for a moment before I realized that the sound it was making was very un-possum-like.  In fact, it sounded almost human.  I especially thought so when the crow picked it up, and it screamed “Help me! “
         At first I thought it might be a very small child, or maybe a midget.  A one foot tall midget that has problems with crows chasing him down.  Poor guy, I thought,  I never thought a man could be so low on the food chain.
         I really hate crows.  They are the rats of the skies.  So anyone could sympathize with me for doing what I did.  The rock I threw at the crow nailed him in the head as he flew by with his load.  I couldn’t help but smile as I saw it bite the ground.  Man, I hate crows.
         I could see the little guy better this time.  He picked up a pointy red hat and put it on his head.  His rosy red cheeks and big bulbous nose really made him look… like a gnome. 
         He stared at me for a moment.  I stared back, completely at a loss as to what to say. 
         “So… um…” I fumbled, trying to figure out what to say to a really small man with a Napoleon Complex (I mean c’mon, the hat was taller than he was).  I’ll admit I turned a little red.  In retrospect, I guess I wasn’t portraying a good image of the human culture.
         “Knock up job old chum!  Thank you for saving me!  I am in your debt!”  The little man pulled off his hat and gave a florid bow.  Okay.  Definitely not a midget.  And why, oh why, did it have a British accent?
         I gave off a passing smile and said “You’re welcome.  Um… who are you?  WHAT are you?”  DEFINITELY didn’t portray a good image for the humans.
         “Ah, where are my manners?  My name is Goldfipe, and I” He spun his hat a little bit and placed it on his head, “Am a gnome.” 
         I stared at him non-plussed for a moment.  “Uh, huh.  So, uh Goofeet,” I stammered
         “Goldfipe,” He corrected automatically.
         “Yes, Mr. Goldfipe.” I said, gathering my wits about me once more.  “Now that I saved you, do I get like, a pot of gold or a wish or something?”  I’ll admit it was a little sarcastic, but I was really confused at the moment.  You would too if you had just discovered the existence of sentient life that wasn’t human.
         “No, I believe you have me confused with the leprechaun.  Oh trust me; you don’t want to run into one of them.  Nasty little blighters, they are.”
         “Oh.  My bad,” I muttered apologetically, thinking that I would rather have a pot of gold than a British speaking lawn gnome.  But it’s like my mother always said; don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I was about to say something more when Goldfipe opened his mouth once more.
         “No, we gnomes are much better mannered.  Now where was it…?” He rummaged around in his pocket for a moment.  “Oh here it is!” He pulled out a gold coin the size of a penny and put it in the palm of my hand.  I looked at it for a moment, supposing that gnome money probably wouldn’t be the size of human currency.  I wondered how much I could get for it at the local pawn shop.
         The gnome looked at me, and as if he could read my mind he said, “Oh don’t sell it, it is worth more than money can buy.”  I highly doubted that.  “You see, with this gold coin you can see what normal humans can’t see.  You can see my brothers and sisters, and all sorts of other wonderful things!”  I was pretty sure that illicit drugs could do the same thing, but I held my tongue.
         Goldfipe pulled out a little miniature pocket watch and gasped.  “Oh my, look at the time, I am late for supper!  The Missus will be furious!  Oh thank you so much, um…” 
         “Mark,” I corrected him. 
         “Yes, Mark.  Thank you very much for your help.  Now if you’ll excuse me…” And with that, the little man was gone.
         After that, I thought I was crazy myself.  But I still have this little coin to prove it.  See it?  It’s right here.
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