Oh you think so, do you? by A_Sunbeam ()
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No-one crosses me without penalty.
Once, some years ago, I was in the village tavern for a drink. Just a couple, I thought, and, with it being such a fine summer afternoon, then I’ll walk down to the river and along the river bank.
But a couple of pints led to a third, and the upshot was that I stayed there for over an hour.
I’m still not sure how the argument started – or even who started it – but a fight broke out. I tried to intervene – and for my pains had a mouthful of insults hurled at me; which, had it not been for the beer, would not have made me angry.
I lashed out, and my opponent vanished, turned to nothing by my unspoken thought. His friends – and his enemies, all turned on me, their quarrel forgotten. One struck me across the back, my anger blazed – and without a sound they and the tavern were all wiped from the face of the earth.
I began to walk towards the river path, but the villagers were after me, some shouting and cursing, others carrying farm tools, pitchforks, knives – whatever they had to hand.
I should not have harmed them; I could have slipped away; but the thought did not cross my mind.
So I erased village and villager, farm and farmer, from the land. I left the land where they had dwelt bleak, blackened and desolate, and returned home.
That place is now a great forest; few folk go near its borders and none go in.