The Troll Game

I think that J. K. Rowling was almost right. Some people are muggles, non-magic people, and for one reason or another just don’t see the faery realm. I said, “almost right.” It’s a matter of perception, some people just don’t have faery eyes; they are not able to perceive what is quite plain to the rest of us.

Take for instance the five o’clock news report of the happenings on our street. They reported that “there was a sudden down draft taking down every other fence along the alley between the rows of houses and battering in several roofs.”

Now, what I saw was a rather stupid looking troll, with a look of utmost glee on his face, enjoying one of his favourite entertainments—rhythmically swinging his huge club in a large arching figure eight pattern, over his head, downward, battering a roof, swinging across the alley whacking a fence, swinging up again to bang the edge of a roof as the club arched again across the alley to flatten the fence on the other side of the alley. All the while the troll was roaring with laughter.

Now the muggles heard dimly the troll laughter. “Wind,” they said, because there are no trolls, and besides that everybody knows that trolls don’t laugh. And so the muggle news reports, “A sudden windstorm, with powerful downdrafts, struck a number of houses and fences in the city last night.”