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Description
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Publié par | iUniverse |
Date de parution | 18 juillet 2022 |
Nombre de lectures | 0 |
EAN13 | 9781663242662 |
Langue | English |
Poids de l'ouvrage | 1 Mo |
Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.
Extrait
Trolls
in the
Forest
Doctor Poppy
Trolls in the Forest
Copyright © 2022 Doctor Poppy.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
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ISBN: 978-1-6632-4265-5 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6632-4266-2 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022913206
iUniverse rev. date: 07/15/2022
Prologue
For years, we had always vacationed at the family lodge. It was originally built by the Smith family, but, after the Second World War, my grandfather bought it from Mr. Smith. Shortly thereafter, we all took turns driving up to Augusta to spend a few weeks each summer away from the heat of the city and in the coolness of the forest, frolicking in the cold waters of the stream that ran through the property.
The lodge became a place for the children to forget about the difficulties of school days and homework, and the adults, just plain work. Both children and parents alike could kick back and enjoy the beauty of the trees, the many kinds of birds that inhabited the forest, and the ever cool breezes that kept the days pleasant and the nights ideal for sleeping.
I remember my first years at the lodge, how we explored the woods that surrounded the home, and how we found strange rock formations, almost like shapes of little people but weathered, like old headstones in a cemetery.
I can’t say I ever heard any strange sounds from the forest, but all nighttime sounds carried mystery to young ears and soon these noises weren’t feared anymore, just accepted as part of the natural surroundings.
So it was a surprise the day my youngest granddaughter, Claudia, came to me holding in her hands the smallest pair of shoes I had ever seen. She asked me, “Poppy, who do these belong to?”
“Why, I don’t know,” I replied, as I carefully turned the shoes over in my hands. They were tiny but well-made and looked like they would fit a small teddy bear. As they were broad, they were definitely a male’s shoes. They were made from a soft leather, with leather laces carefully crossed through three holes on each side up the front, kind of like what the pioneer Daniel Boone would wear!
“I found them by the stream,” said Claudia, as she gently pulled me toward the edge of the woods and led me to where the discovery had been made. I don’t know if it was caution on my part, fear of the unknown, or maybe that it was near lunchtime that made me steer my little charge back toward the lodge.