He was a cheery, red-cheeked gnome. His mouth gaped open revealing a row of small teeth, too small and too white, eerie, like kernels of an albino corn. His eyes were shut in mid-song or mid-burp. Beer foam from the tiny mug in his tiny hand had stuck to his beard from one of his increasingly drunken draughts of the ale.
I hoped he’d had enough beer that he wouldn’t feel the impact.
At the same time, I could care less.
On the first swing, the glass pane in the door between the back patio and the kitchen cracked and splintered. Dozens of future individual chunks of glass formed, ready to be popped free of their frame.
I checked the drunken gnome. He seemed to be holding together. This one not ceramic, but hefty, made of stone. I made sure my grip around his backside was firm and I swung him into the glass a second time. A third.
Mojo barked each swing. Emotional support.
Lucid cover sketch courtesy Jenny Dayton.
Lucid preview available at Smashwords.