They called him Terrence, the terrible. An oaf of a man that stood eight-foot tall on a bad day and ten-foot tall on a good day. He was a giant in a world of four-foot tiny men and woman. Terrence did not enjoy towering over the others in the village. He didn’t enjoy much. His height was a curse brought on my Mother Earth to punish his mother. His mother, bless her soul, died during childbirth and this stain colored his mood for life.
Terrence lived on the outskirts of the village. A carved out hole in the side of Mt. Hope served as a home for Terrence. Most nights he would sit outside the carved out hole and stare at the village. Stare at the people that were once his family. “Well, they were never his family”, Terrence corrected his thought. They removed him from his home when he was only two years old. He had barely quit nursing, from a foster mother that appeared on a regular basis every couple hours. The nurses shared the responsibilities of raising Terrence from birth. They often made it clear that Terrence was lucky to be alive after killing his mother.
“It was a rough life”, Terrence thought as a fly circled his right ear. The buzz drove him nuts as his right eye twitched and then moved to follow the little winged creature. Terrence’s height wasn’t the only trait that mysterious cursed his body. His head was squared and his eyes sat along the sides of his head. His ears were large and the tops hung downward. The fly flew within inches of Terrence’s right eye and paused in flight. The fly examined the strange spherical sight in front of him. The translucent globe that followed its every move. “Friend of Foe,” thought the fly till a long wet tongue wrapped itself around the fly. The tiny morsel, that was the fly, screamed its fly scream then passed out from fright.
Terrence chewed on the fly for moments then swallowed it. He then stood, turned and walked into the hole that was his home.