Village harvest festival, marrows big as three-year-olds, piglets with two heads, jams and hams, ale and rose-hip wine drunk to excess by red-faced farmers and their wives.
I, disguised, occupied the fortune-teller’s booth; promised death or love or money as desired to successive gullibles.
But I was the bigger fool: Mathias the final customer. He knocked me down, played Punch to my Judy and, while Gabriel wrestled with a farmer’s son, kicked life from my belly, leaving me in hopeless lonely labour. With a screech ‘twixt owl and vixen I expelled bloody pulp, then a second lifeless babe burst forth.
This is part 40 of 'The blacksmith's wife'. The whole is a prompt-led serial which began on the Friday Prediction, in March and continued, one hundred words at a time, for forty-one episodes. One of my aims in this 100 days project is to complete the illustrations for each episode and publish the tale in book form. The story can be read in its entirety here.