“Don't jump to conclusions.”
Evel Knievel* #quote
CJ's birthday is this weekend. Getting ready his gift and
stuff. It shall be a most joyous occasion I bet. Anyway onto the
flash fiction!
The Goblin Palace
Goblins are weak, frail creatures. Easily bullied by any other
being. Humans, elves, ogres, whatever creature in whatever land could
pick on a goblin. Their only advantage was in numbers. They could
team up to protect each other. But even then they felt tiny. As they
wore their tattered clothes and lived in straw huts they wondered if
they could become even grander.
They saw that other creatures built huge palaces. Many of the most
grandest things a species had was their palaces. Elves and humans
especially loved their palaces. In a consensus a whole three
countries of goblins decided to build a palace. All wanting to be
grand in some way they still made their livings but every hobby
became working on the palace or helping with its construction in some
way. It became an international phenomenon. It shattered goblin
culture so much it became bigger than the Beatles did.
It took a decade, as many cultural phenomenons do. But with three
countries spending every hour of their free time obsessively working
on it(and every employed worker obsessed beyond their paid
obligation) it turned out to be the most marvelous palace in all the
known lands. Fully furnished and spreading several acres while also
having twenty floors and balconies they mixed in every kind of
architecture they heard about but managed to keep it not looking
messy. Everything was beautiful.
Though in the years following the goblins merely just maintained the
palace and rented it out to the other species. They stayed in the
straw huts and were content with it being an accomplishment and not a
living space.
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