ASMSG Scifi Fantasy Paranormal Emagazine March 2014 | Page 29

WHEN MOONLIGHT FALLS
Alex Mahon
COMING SOON – WHEN MOONLIGHT FALLS
This will be a collection of fairtytales. More stories will be added to the collection as I just love the cover so much and see no point in
changing covers for further stories. Here’s a sample of an already-published story which I have taken off the shelf so as to add to the
collection.
OIL
Elfis threw down his pickaxe and examined his frost-bitten
hands. The blisters had hardened since he last checked. And to
make matters worse, his back and muscles threatened to seize
up. At this rate he would die from overwork and starvation.
Then maggots and worms would wriggle inside his eye sockets
and play peek-a-boo.
Too exhausted and in too much pain, he quit for the day. He’d
come back tomorrow. Hopefully, it would have rained by then,
making it easier for him to dig deeper furrows. With a bit of
luck, he might even manage to plant his potato seeds.
He straightened his stiff back, groaning with the effort. His
stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since that
morning. He had no idea where he was going to find food
though. He’d eaten the last slice of bread that morning and now
his pantry was bare.
Bending to get his pickaxe, he heard a faint sound; like a splash
of some kind. He slowly turned round. A few feet away a rat was
swimming across a pool of murky liquid. Minutes earlier there
had only been a collection of potholes where cows once
trampled.
It clambered out, dripping, and scampered in the direction of
Ben Ard Forest next to the field.
Elfis guessed the liquid was sewage. Yesterday he had cracked a
sewage pipe and almost vomited at the stench. However, this
liquid didn’t look the same.
He went over and knelt beside it, taking a deep whiff. It didn’t
smell like sewage. He brought his nose closer and took an even
bigger whiff. His spine tingled with nervous excitement.

bottom of his hooded robe. He’d soon be able to buy a silk one
after this.
A cawing sound rang in the air.
He looked over at an elm tree on the edge of the forest whose
branches overhung the field. Perched on its middle branch was
Carson, a wily old crow.
Carson flew across the field, cawing, “The elf has found oil. The
elf has found oil. The elf has ahhhhhhh!”
He plunged beak first into the pool.
Seconds later he resurfaced, beating his wings against the
surface.
“Help me!” he screeched. “My plumage is clogged up with oil.
I’ll drown.”
Elfis loaded his catapult with another stone. He stuck out his
tongue, closed an eye, and lined the bird up in his sights.
“Big mouth,” he said. “I’ll knock your block off. Just see if I
don’t.”
Carson dipped and resurfaced. “What if I help you?” he said.
“How?”
“To sell your oil. Do you know the price of a barrel of oil these
days?”
Elfis lowered his catapult. “No.”

It smelled like, no, it couldn’t be. He dipped a hand in and
examined the liquid as it ran down his fingers. He rubbed them
together. This time he was sure.

“Well, I don’t know either. But it’s a lot.” His head dipped below
the surface, then popped up again. “Let’s you and I talk business.
You want to be rich, don’t you?”

“Oil,” he said. The word came out as rasp.

Elfis nodded. “Ahuh!”

He stood up.

“Then put me on your shoulder and I’ll tell you how.”

“Oil,” he yelled. This time the word echoed around him. “Oil.
I’m rich. Rich.”

Elfis sorely wanted to fire a stone at him, but decided to hear
what the crow had to say. He fished him out of the pool and put
him on his shoulder, facing his ear.

He did a jig, spinning so fast that he lost his balance and fell bum
first into the pool. Laughing, he stood up and wrung out the

Carson spread his wings, dripping oil down the back and front
of Elfis’s robe. He spluttered for a few moments and then spoke.

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