Trash Can Troll

short story about a Troll encounter

 

            Jillian loved to run in the park late in the evening. The air was always fresher then that around her cluttered apartment and the gentle breeze and sounds of birds singing always made her forget her troubles. Usually she only had to share the trails with an elderly lady who walked her dog and the occasional couple out for a romantic walk. This evening was different, she seemed to have the entire park all to herself. It was most likely the thick dark storm clouds that moved in ominously from the south that kept them away. 

            She rounded the bend that lead down by the river and spotted the trash can that sat beside one of the many benches that dotted the park shaking back and forth. Coming to a much slower space she approached the receptacle cautiously. She figured a raccoon or cat had climbed into the heavy metal container looking for a morsel of food left behind earlier in the day. 

            “Harrumph!” came a loud sound from what ever was struggling inside the can. Jillian had never heard that sound come from any animal she had ever encountered so she moved in a bit closer hoping to get a little better view. As she peered over the rusted edge she could not believe her eyes.

            A small thing with beady eyes, a broad nose, and sparsely crops of black hair looked back at her. “What are you looking at?” its voice was thick and crude as it spoke through a yellow set of sharp looking teeth. Jillian was dumb struck unable to believe her eyes. “Uhh, do you need some help?” She finally managed to croak out, though she was thinking of running for her car on the other end of the park. 

            “Well are you going to help me out of this damn thing or stand there like a wart on a toad? It grumbled as it raised two stubby thick hands up toward her. It took all the courage she could find to grasp the clammy hands of the thing that continued to grumble at her. She could feel it jagged nails dig into her wrist as she pulled hard to extricate it from the trash bin. For such a small creature it was a lot heavier then she expected and she had to use every ounce of strength she could, to manage one last jerk that tumbled them both backward across the soft grass. 

            “It’s about time” the foul little thing mumbled as it stood and headed back toward the wooded area on the parks edge. Jillian stared after it for a moment looking at how it stumbled off without as much as a thank you. “Hay wait up.” She called as she pulled herself to her feet and started off toward it. “What are you exactly?” She asked as she side stepped and cut its exit short. She was determined to know exactly what that thing was. She felt it at least owed her that much.

            It stood looking at her as if to judge if she was worthy of its time. After a second or two it grumbled something under its breath that she could not understand before growling low and menacing. To bad for it she was not the type that backed down easy not even when threatened. Instead of darting for her car as it had hoped she placed both hands on her slender hips and simply waited. 

            “Are you so dense that you don’t know a troll when you see one?” It grumbled under it breathe again but this time she made out something about nosy humans.   Jillian raised her eyebrows and chuckled. Like this thing was a troll. Maybe a run away freak from the circus, but a troll, she was not born yesterday. 

            “Ya right!” she said as she began to tap the toe of her running shoe on the ground impatiently. The creature glared at her, irritation obvious in its stance. “Stubborn human, next thing you know you’ll be saying you don’t believe in fairies.” It growled as it stepped passed her and continued toward the woods. “What do you mean?” Jillian called after him as she watched him disappear into the darkness of the over growth. She stood there for a long moment staring at where he had vanished, her mind running at a hundred miles a minute, but the only words that came where a simple statement, “Fairies are real.”

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

I think Mr. Troll owed Jillian a favor for pulling his short derriere out of that can--three wishes or some magic beans....something! Why do they have to be such rude little buggers? An entertaining little story, NightDream.

[Leah Elisabeth]

This is well done. It was very descriptive and interesting. It definitely calls for more story, but it was written as a complete unit. I hope you do more with this.