Wednesday, January 29, 2014

The Cobbler and the Troll.

The Old Cobbler and the Troll

One day the old cobbler woman was on her way to her mending shop in town. She didn’t have a car and didn’t really feel the need for one, as she preferred to walk. She came to the bridge she once lived under when she was poor and remembered the happy times she’d spent beneath with a warm cosy fire on stormy nights beside her two pet sheep. She walked over it and was beginning to make her way past when she heard a grumble. She walked back, looked over and could see nothing. So shrugged her shoulders and went on. Suddenly there was a roar behind her. She jumped with fright. ‘What on earth?’ she screamed. Turning, she saw a troll, whom had taken to living under the bridge. ‘He, Hello.’ she said to the troll who was barefoot, had long shaggy hair and torn clothes. He wasn’t very large, like you would read in a story but quite scary. He had sharp teeth and big round eyes. He had very VERY large feet. ‘You make shoe?’ The troll asked with very bad English. ‘Ye, yes I do.’ She replied. ‘Make shoe for me? Feet cold.’ he stated, pointing at his feet. ‘Yes, indeed. Nobody around here should be without a shoe, not even a troll. She walked to the troll and took a look at his feet. She had just the right amount of leather back at her shop left over from mending other’s shoes. 'I will come back later and fit you for some shoes ok?’ ‘Ok.’ said the troll and he jumped over the bridge and disappeared beneath. Later that day, the cobbler returned. She had two very, VERY large shoes and had to borrow a trailer to pull them along behind her. She heard snoring as she apprached and made her way down along the side of the bridge. She was greeted by the Troll’s large feet sticking out the side. ‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘I have your shoes.’ He wouldn’t wake up so she put them on him and they fit perfectly. She wrote a note, which read ‘Enjoy your shoes, your feet are no longer cold, when they wear away, I’ll be back to mend, as I make new what is old.’ So she made her way home to her old little cottage, took off her own shoes who were glad of the freedom and hopped around unknown to her. Very tired after her day, she got into bed and went to sleep only to be awakened during the night, by ferocious noises outside. They frightened her greatly, rattling and banging and clanging. She covered her head and hoped it would stop. When the light began to shine through in the morning, she realised the noise had now stopped and the birds began to sing. She was ever so tired and still a little frightened to go outside. ‘What on earth was all that racket?’ she put on her shoes who were not where she'd left them and stepped outside. She could not believe her eyes.’ Her garden was beautifully decorated in old tin cans,bottle caps, coins and anything shiny that you could think of that people had thrown away. It wasn’t a mess though, it was so, so beautiful. She wandered around and below a tree where bottles lay hanging making lovely sounds in the cool morning breeze, lay a piece of paper beside some fresh flowers whose stems were wrapped carefully in foil. On the piece of paper was a message which read, ‘The shoe fits feet, you very kind. This garden now is only thanks I could find.’ She smiled to herself, looked around at the lovely garden and went to work. She never saw the Troll again, as with warm dry feet he wandered off to find a new home. 

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