Flash Fiction: The Root of the Problem

Marrie pointed to the blooming rosebush she now had instead of hair. “So? What is it?”

“It’s like, really far-out is what it is,” the druid said, pushing up his sunglasses with a thumbs-up.

She glared.

“Whoa, alright. Okay. It’s like, from a particular family of enchantments… You piss-off any dryads lately?”

“I may have evicted one recently, yes.”

“Well, you had better get cool with her quick… unless you dig Miracle Grow and bein’ a trippy-dippy nature spirit n’ stuff.”


Copyright © 2018 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

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