drawing by Chris Andresen |
A knock at the door. Gerta turned her head. It was finally time then. Sighing, she smoothed out the front of her plain, homespun dress. She’d always known this day would come, ever since she was a small girl. Now she was a full-grown gnome, as full as gnomes grow anyway. And she was ready. Not that she had much choice about it. She had to be ready. For one wild irrational moment, she considered not opening the door. She could disappear. She could run to the trapdoor in the cellar and take the emergency tunnel. They’d never find her. Not until it was too late. She could run. But that wasn’t who she was. And if she ran now, she’d never be able to stop. That would be far worse. So, steeling herself for what was to come, Gerta gritted her teeth and opened the door.
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