Summer – The Monksville Chronicles #82

The spring ends within a few shinecycles of the great and sudden storm brought on by the raging swans, and on the first day of the summer, giants of both villages convene ‘round a grand bonfire to share stories of the fish they’ve pulled from the waters of Mother Monksville. Walleyes, bass of mouths small and large, even pike and trout were caught, but not a single muskellunge was pulled from the murky waters. The Giant, his metal hand unblemished by the likes of common rust, is not deterred – he must catch that last muskellunge, he must be sure that it lives, and when he does catch it? He will not be so swift to drop his oars in the water.

The opening days of summer are hot and dry, though the Reservoir’s water only rises in level. With The Beast long gone the spring season saw the return of many lost denizens to the Monksville Reservoir, including a specific flavor of landwalker which glides gracefully upon the air like a proper wingflapper. This wingwalker, if you dare to consider him as such, met up with a ground squirrel, the only squirrel to survive the past winter’s massacre at The Crater, and the two discovered a massive tree hollow in which to bunk west of Muskellunge Cove. But the food is not plentiful there, and the ground squirrel’s tales of the splendor of The Crater are too grand, are too promising to remain strictly in the realm of legend. One balmy night, after a fierce and violent argument about who would get the last acorn if all the oak trees were to die off, Buggaboo the flying squirrel leaps from the hollow and glides into the evening alone.

Stay seated, small giants, listen well and hear me true: thus begins the final chapter of the final yarn I shall ever spin.

This has been the last subchapter of the fourth chapter of the book The Monksville Chronicles. Here is everything you need to know about it:

The Monksville Chronicles

I’ve written a few other books, too. Click here to see the list.

The Hillside Commons has a Facebook page. Here’s that.

If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~

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