The Bored Giant

Admiring the falls, the stoned giant reached out a finger, tickling the falling water.


Unbeknownst to him, the evil that lurked nearby waited, cowering, trying to hide in the floating foam.  Terrified the giant would swirl him into nothingness, popped bubbles of air; he held up his hands dripping in evil and made an offering.  Death dripping from his claws as he held them up showing his valuable gift.

The giant didn’t even see him, and slowly tapped at the water, bored now.  The evil thought the giant was toying with him, and would destroy him any minute, so he pulled out the only gift he had that wasn’t evil.


Evil screamed up at the giant, who couldn’t hear him, saying

“Take my son!  Just don’t destroy me!”

Suddenly the giant’s finger began to sway back and forth, almost as if he were saying, “no, no, no,” like a grandmother would, yet he appeared not to notice the evil was there.

The giant’s finger continued swaying back and forth until evil was only a memory, washing into rocks, fading in the sun, bubbles separated across the water, evaporating almost instantly; just like the giant planned all along.