Night times

A troll lives in my bedroom. Sometimes, most times, at night times, I feel him eating my feet. 

He’s a big ‘ole troll. With a mouth as wide as it is deep. Having stones for teeth, their jagged and cragged bottoms dispel any illusions that the smooth fronts might create. These teeth, they don’t just crunch, they saw. Back and forth. Side to side.

The first bite is always a shock. Instead of going for the toes, he clamps down in the middle of the foot. Both feet. At the same time. Grinding and pulling, the troll tries to pull skin from the foot as you would sap from sugar cane. Mashing and biting. His breath is so hot. Years of digested skin, bones, and blood rocket out a damp scorching wind. It burns like acid. 

He hates it when I move. Stopping still with his mouth agape, I feel the pebbles and broken gravel falling from his gums. They smash down on my bones, but it feels like bliss compared to those crushing stones. Those boulders that leave invisible cuts up and down my legs when he gets ravenous. Trolls are very greedy. He’s even gone for my hands and arms from time to time! 

Tonight, I could have sworn that he finally took a part of me home in his belly. His jaws clamped down on my feet as he twisted his massive head side to side. Just as my mangled feet slipped from his mouth, he bit down. I think it was with all of his might, as the room shook from the force. The troll’s enormous teeth cracked my burnt and broken toes. The pains radiated up my legs. He was tearing my feet apart with a mature type of callousness and vigor. 

But, I’ve learned that while you can’t shake a troll, you can shrink them. I used all of my strength to rip my feet from his torrid mouth. Tenderly placing my legs on the edge of the bed, I sat up. Down he went. Not quite small enough, those teeth still nipping at me. I stood up. Down he went. Small enough this time. Small enough to scurry away and wait for the next time I lay down. 

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