The King of Monksville – The Monksville Chronicles #121

It was the day we released Buggaboo the flying squirrel into the backyard. I was sitting in the living room reading a book or something and my dad and brother had just gotten home from work. We were talking about Buggaboo and wondering what he was doing before my dad saved him, how he wound up in the lake. The train of thought I was riding was barreling towards the station marked I Guess We’ll Never Know, but my dad boarded a different train. He said to me, “Y’know, you should do a book about all the different animals that live around Monksville and give the flying squirrel an origin story.”

“Yeah?” I said, somewhat hesitant at first, as I had just finished drafting a novel of great length and I wasn’t quite ready to dive right in on a new project.

“Yeah!” he exclaimed, clearly excited about the idea. “I’ve been fishing Monksville since they flooded it in the eighties, I have a bunch of stories you could put in the book. Monksville’s a special place, you see some cool shit out there if you know where to look.”

Indeed you do, dad. Here’s to Mike Wallace, the king of Monksville Reservoir; thank you for your stories, thank you for sharing your lake with me, and thank you for the unforgettable memories.

– H.A.W.

This has been the last story from the first appendix 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.

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

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