a curiosity of culvert goblins

Keeper’s Journal, November 26, 2017

I discovered a possible new species in the Enchanted Forest today: culvert goblins. At the end of NaNoWriMo no less. I should be focusing on my novel, not documenting a new species, but such is life as Keeper of Imaginary Beasts.

culvertgoblin
a culvert goblin in their natural habitat

 

After some trial and error, I discovered the culvert goblins respond well to promises of hot cocoa and frozen blueberries. They may well have been starving in their respective culverts, or are possibly ruled by cravings of sweet things at both extremes of temperature.

Once inside the house, they huddled around the fireplace and its crackling fire, making me wonder if they have evolved from a medieval species of hobgoblin, bottlenecking to the culvert niche. I suppose the things are plentiful enough and tunnels have always had a mystical portal element that imaginary beasts are attracted to.

After consuming their promised treats, the sugar elicited an energetic response, causing them to grow too destructive for keeping indoors. The collection of dragon scales donated by the lunar dragons on their last visit was damaged, but I believe I can repair them with a bit of glue and time.

I was forced to turn them out-of-doors again when they refused to stop knocking at the fairy doors. Better cold than turned to toads or inside out by infuriated fairies. They returned to their respective culverts, muttering about the cold and offended by my refusal to let them hibernate in the kindling basket by the stove.

I’ll keep an eye on them throughout the winter, and am planning a trip to the local thrift shop for wool blankets to keep them cozy in their winter hibernation. I look forward to studying them more fully in the spring, but for now, its back to NaNoWriMo. The end is in sight!

on the substandard housing of imaginary friends

The wind howled through the frame. Jagged metal stuck out from damaged joints. The bespectacled, high heeled woman pulled out her notebook, jotting things down.

bus

“Really, Lily, just because he’s an imaginary friend doesn’t mean you can get away with substandard housing. You’re what? Six years old? Old enough to take responsibility. After all, you imagined him. The least you could do is throw a tarp over the frame. Keep out the rain. This is hardly a proper stable for a unicorn of his sensitivities. Maybe build him a tree house. Imagine him some wings.” She sighed. “I’ll have to give you a citation.”

Bewildered, Lily took the paper the woman handed her. “Is this real?”

“It’s as real as that imaginary friend of yours.” The woman pointed her chin into the air and walked off through the forest, losing her balance here and there in her pointy heeled shoes.

Lily decided to get started on a tree house. Just in case.