The Troll of Troy

The Troll of Troy

A Story by roarke
"

Just another lazy day in our part of the woods.

"

My wife and I live in a tiny town called Troy. Its name has nothing to with Greek Mythology, but is named after an ounce measurement of silver, because a hundred years ago, this tucked away valley was home to several silver mines. Due to my evolving misanthropic tendencies, I rarely venture from the sanctuary of our mountain home and most of the time, stubbornly refuse to descend into town. But since it was a sunny spring day my wife insisted I come grocery shopping with her. Which was just her way of saying a long winter and cabin fever had made me a bit squirrelly.  


We held hands like we always do walking from the parking lot to the market’s sliding door entrance. Troy’s grocery has a bit of a reputation due to its decor of deer, elk and moose trophy heads mounted around its interior. Neither of us really notice the mounts anymore, hunting for produce sales garners most of our attention. My wife selected a small cart and entered the store. Before following her, I paused to look behind me as the door slid open again. 


A tall troll lumbered into the grocery leaning his lanky torso forward, lurch-stepping with long blades of matted hair swinging about his knobby cheekbones and hunched shoulders. As he passed, I could tell he was a troll not only by his huge hands and feet, but by his very low voice. He tried to disguise how low his voice was with a husky whisper as he shopped the aisles, reading random package labels aloud. But what really gave him away was his laugh, a booming, hang-jaw laugh that exposed naked gums showing long, hippopotamus-like teeth. I noticed about half his teeth were missing, probably a result from chewing on bones. His lunging strides made him look as if he were in a hurry, but I judged by his expression he seemed generally happy to be here, or maybe just amused by the animal heads mounted on the walls. Either way, he didn’t seem in any particular hurry. 


My wife only had a few vegetables and a dozen eggs in her cart as she wheeled it to the checkout. A young woman with multi-colored streaks in her hair started ringing up our items when the troll loomed behind us in his dirty, loose hanging coveralls. He laughed, directing his low husky whisper at the checkout girl, talking in a kind of slow motion way about how much he enjoyed the sunny day and about his garden seeds, boasting how busy he was, planting them everywhere he could. He hung his mouth open, rumbling a well-deep laugh between each comment and looked at everyone expectantly behind his untrimmed hair. I noticed him set a loaf of bread on the conveyor belt, squeezed into an unrecognizable shape from his massive grip and then gingerly place a quart of buttermilk beside it. I couldn’t help but wonder if trolls had any kind of baking skills. As my wife paid our bill, I speculated the bread and buttermilk might be ingredients for some kind of ancient, bread pudding recipe. I waited near the cash register, stalling, curious to see what he’d use to pay for the food with, but my wife beckoned she was leaving and yanked me out the door by my coat sleeve. 


I’d never seen the troll of Troy before and wondered if maybe he was new in town. There was a rumor the mines had reopened and possibly he moved here looking for work. We took our time enjoying the forest scenery as we slowly made our way back up the twisting cutbacks toward home. Since I didn’t leave the seclusion of my mountain much, there were probably a lot of residents I’d never seen before. I caught my wife’s eyes and twitched her a smile. Secretly, I didn’t think she even noticed a troll in our tiny town grocery. I stuck my head out the truck window and inhaled a great lung full of conifer air. I made a decision then and there to accompany her more often when she went down the mountain to shop. Obviously I missed a lot by staying home. Maybe she was right, and I was getting too squirrelly. 

© 2021 roarke


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Author's Note

roarke
Just a little ‘day in the life’ piece...no, seriously, a troll.... ya hadda been there. Critiques and comments welcome. Don’t forget to bring some bread pudding.....

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Featured Review

Very well-told and interesting. I saw the troll pretty clearly, though it probably didn't match the one you saw exactly. Things like that stick in your mind. In my mind they do, at least. Must be over 20 years ago that I saw one at the local Long Johns. He walked liked he'd been stitched together with various cadaver parts that didn't fit very well. One foot would go forward, sort of pulling the rest of his wobbly parts along. His head sat on a long neck that was emblazoned with a lemon-sized swastika tatoo. Altogether, he looked unnatural and I wanted a big can of Black Flag to spray him with.

Posted 5 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

roarke

5 Months Ago

I wonder sometimes, what with all the smart phone distractions, if people ever really see the “rea.. read more



Reviews

Very interesting poem about a town you live in.

Posted 5 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

If you've seen one troll you've seen em' all. But, that grocery store? Now that was interesting.

Posted 5 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

roarke

5 Months Ago

That part DC was all truth. And you’re right about the trolls,lol.
Thank you for the Tall tale. However, I'm surprised you didn't mention the family of trolls living just up the road from you. They don't leave their home much either and I'm fairly certain the troll in the grocery store was one of them, just in town for a few supplies after a long winter.

Posted 5 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

roarke

5 Months Ago

Heh, I’d be very surprised to discover you lived anywhere near me, lol. Yes, its a veritable alter.. read more
Very well-told and interesting. I saw the troll pretty clearly, though it probably didn't match the one you saw exactly. Things like that stick in your mind. In my mind they do, at least. Must be over 20 years ago that I saw one at the local Long Johns. He walked liked he'd been stitched together with various cadaver parts that didn't fit very well. One foot would go forward, sort of pulling the rest of his wobbly parts along. His head sat on a long neck that was emblazoned with a lemon-sized swastika tatoo. Altogether, he looked unnatural and I wanted a big can of Black Flag to spray him with.

Posted 5 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

roarke

5 Months Ago

I wonder sometimes, what with all the smart phone distractions, if people ever really see the “rea.. read more

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4 Reviews
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Added on April 1, 2021
Last Updated on April 1, 2021
Tags: Short story, fiction, flash fiction, humor, trolls, small towns, groceries, william calkins

Author

roarke
roarke

MT



About
Bio I've been a professional teacher, artist and musician for over thirty years and I currently pursue an off-the-grid homesteading lifestyle. I'm continuing life's journey, accepting and creating n.. more..

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