1652.
The country is getting back to normal after nine years of civil war, not that the residents of Lumdy noticed anything different. Suffering from their self-imposed exclusion from the rest of the region due to their mini Plague outbreak, most of the villagers were gaunt, withdrawn and lawless.
They thought nothing of helping themselves to goods intended for their market stalls, meaning other villagers often went without.
Penryn Tarbuckle had had enough.
He’d found a discarded pistol just before the Plague hit the village, and decided to use it as a deterrent. It had no ammunition so he thought just pointing it towards his fellow villagers would be enough.
One morning, Penryn walked to market, wearing his cape coat and capotain, and found all that was left was a ledger and a royal orb. The stall keeper had no idea where either had come from, and, as the rest of his items had already been taken by other desperate villagers, didn’t charge Penryn the shilling he should have done.
On his way back to his cottage, Penryn noticed other villagers scuttling out of his way as he approached them. With the last one, he had to ask, ‘you, squire, stop… why doth run?’
The ‘squire’ pointed to the pistol in Penryn’s hand, without uttering a word before he continued to scuttle.
‘It works!’ Penryn chuckled, realising he didn’t even need to point the pistol.
He walked home, imagining himself as a bronze statue… in years to come.
Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a magical challenge to write up to 250 words using a photo provided by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr as inspiration.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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