The Hamlet

“Our hamlet has a problem.  Just beyond the trees live beasts of unspeakable horror.  Those foolish enough to venture beyond the line rarely return.  If they do they come back changed,” the elder who introduced himself as Jonah explained.

The weary traveler, tired from a day along a dirt road, looked upon Jonah’s face.  There was pain in the man’s expression.  Despite the apparent truth in the statement, something nagged at the traveler and before he could control his words, he blurted a question.

“Is this some sort of The Village sitch?”

Annoyed, Jonah replied, “Sitch? What? No.  No, that two bit hack of a Bush era political commentary is nothing like what faces our hamlet.  We’re called a hamlet for goodness sake.”

“Oh.  I mean, at first glance the whole thing sounds a little The Village-ish,” The traveler had approached a touchy subject it appeared.

“If I may continue?” Jonah was still annoyed.  “If you are to stay here, know that our boundary is marked by a thin red line.  You will be able to leave come morning light, when the field mice flee to the woods knowing the vile predator will not be a threat.  You will awake to the smell of Darjeeling tea and the sounds of a player piano.  Leave at first light and you should be to safety before moon rise.”

The traveler felt that nagging feeling once more, and could not control his tongue before, again, he found himself asking a pesky question.

“Are you just listing a bunch of Adrien Brody movies and characters?  It feels like you’re making a long Adrien Brody reference.”

Jonah’s faced turned grim.  “You are not worthy of this sanctuary.  Venture from these hallowed halls now.  Move beyond the trees, seek the river crossing and be on to Skull Island with you! Leave! Now!”  His voice boomed through the cabin and the traveler jumped to his feet and made way for the door.

The poor traveler, backpack slung over his shoulder with a hand on the doorknob, felt that familiar nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach and once again a question he knew better than to ask popped out.

“Did…” he started, a quizzical look overcame him, “did you call The Village political commentary?”

“Out!” Boomed Jonah.

 

 

Thanks for reading!

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