The day was normal, and the Goblin was not.
But really, when was he ever? And for that matter, should he ever be? If he was normal, he very likely would not be the Goblin. He would just be a tiny, grumpy little man. A green one, mind, with an especially round head and long pointy ears that stuck straight out of said round head, but a grumpy little man nonetheless. Not that he was concerned about such matters. No, he was too busy trying to move that dratted rock.
He scratched at it, kicked at it, dug around its base, and – when that all failed – bit it, all while giving a healthy amount of grunts and growls to no avail whatsoever.
The offensive item had been lodged in the dirt path long before the Goblin aimlessly, though determinedly, scuttled his way to this land some years ago, and he had never minded it before. In fact, he had never directly noticed it, despite it sitting just a few paces from his cave. But on this day, as he was stomping back to his home after a handful of busy hours rummaging in the woods with no treasure to show for it, his eye caught on the rock and he was overcome with an extreme frustration at its existence.
He knew instantly that the rock must go. It must either be broken, moved, or eaten, and he didn’t care much for which happened, so long as it was done immediately. “Immediately” proved too much of a demand, for he’d now been hard at work trying to dispose of the rock for the better part of ten minutes.
That was much, much too long.
The Goblin sat back on his haunches with a growl, snarling at the rock through squinted eyes when it refused to cease its existence. He closed one three-fingered claw in a fist and slammed it down on the top of the rock, baring his teeth. As his little fist made contact – with a considerable thunk – the afternoon light shifted and reflected off the stone.
The Goblin perked up, then crouched on all fours and turned his head as sideways as he could manage, one long ear dragging the ground. He squinted, leaning in close to the spot on the rock that the sun had hit just right. He licked it, his bumpy tongue dragging across the stone with a grainy sound. When his tongue was met with a metallic taste, he jumped back with pleasant surprise.
He blinked at the rock, considering, and then
opened his mouth wide and leaned in cautiously, as if
it might run away should he move too quickly.
He carefully took to digging at the interesting spot of the rock with one of his big bottom teeth, gently scraping away the stone.
Time was forgotten, though it did insist on continuing, as the Goblin patiently worked away. Dust-like grains of rock steadily trailed after the Goblin’s tooth, falling to cover the ground - and his four claws - in a fine sandy powder. He didn’t notice, but if he had he would not have cared.
At last, the Goblin finished his excavation. Sitting in the rock's Goblin-formed crater was an almost shiny copper nugget. Quite a large one, too.
The Goblin carefully clamped his teeth over the ore and pulled it free with a jerk of his head. It popped loose, a few bits of broken stone tumbling free in its wake. He carried it to the stream just inside the woods and slowly lowered it in, letting the current wash over each side of it before setting it in the bed of pebbles. The stream had carried bits of dirt and dust away, but there was still work to do. The Goblin set one claw on either side of the ore to keep it from rolling about, then set to biting and licking it. His teeth took away chunks of stone that had remained stuck and his coarse tongue scraped away the rough surface, exposing the copper’s color and, when that was done, bringing out its shine. All the while he made sure to lap up water between dragging licks to wash away the dirt from his tongue and treasure alike.
When the orange sun was half melted, spilling across the horizon like a popped yoke over a hot stone, he finally concluded his task. He now had between his claws a shiny, smooth, and colorful treasure. He rolled it around in the water one last time to make sure it was absolutely clean. Then he contentedly picked it up and gently carried it between his teeth, the biggest ones on the right, as he trotted on all fours back to his cave. His claws landed on smooth, cool earth as he stepped inside the mouth of his dim home. He went straight to the back of the cave to a wall of improvised shelves. Broken pots, sticks, stones, wads of clay, and various other things acted as support for slabs of stone. On one such slab he placed his new prize, right between a chipped saucer and the broken pommel of a long-lost dagger.
He sat back, gazing at his newest treasure as the dying sunlight shimmered on it - a final farewell from the sun as headed off to bed.
The light reflected off of the copper and onto the pristine and ruined pommel, which it also bounced off of, straight into the Goblin’s left eye.
With his eye tightly shut, he growled grudgingly and batted the pommel to the back of the shelf, out of the light’s reach. He pushed the saucer back too, for good measure, leaving the copper chunk sitting by itself at the front.
It looked better like that, anyway.
The Goblin surveyed his work with both eyes, blinking between flitting looks a he studied the intricacies of his copper. Finally he nodded in approval.
He headed to what would be a corner, if the cave weren’t round, and clambered up onto a naturally formed stone shelf. He stomped twice with one foot and once with the other, spun around, crouched, and then tipped over onto his side. With his head resting on the back of one claw, he watched the light pull away from his shelf of treasures. It left the top shelf first, taking the color of the red mushroom and the faded spine of a pageless book. It didn’t drain from the pile of papery sticks, though, for they never had any color to begin with.
The Goblin's eyes grew heavy as the light shrank away from the second shelf, repeating the process with his other treasures.
Then the third shelf. The Goblin let out a quiet huff.
Then the fourth. The Goblin's eyes drooped shut.
Finally the trail of light found its way to the door and creeped out quietly, lest it disturb the sleeping Goblin.
Author's Note
Thank you for reading this installment of A Goblin's Day. This is meant to be the first in a simple on-going series of micro stories following the Goblin as he lives his life. He will encounter nuisances, pests, unlikely enemies, treasures, and various mini adventures in the installments to come.
These micro stories are meant to keep me in the habit of writing and to advance my skill without the pressure of a full-length overarching story. And in general, it's good fun to imagine what a goblin might do in his day to day life.
I hope you enjoyed Treasure Hunting and will join me for the next chapter when it is released next month.
Regards,
