The gnome winked. “Disturb you, did we? Meant to, didn’t we?”
Annoyed, I watch the ivy root I’d been hacking slither into the ground.
“Burrow they do. Like rumors they monger, multiply.”
I slump in the dirt. “It seems hopeless.”
“Aye, Whac-a-Mole.”
“Then what, let them take over?”
“Nae, ye be between Odysseus double monsters. Then strap yourself down and through it ye go.”
Churning waters, sailor’s oars pulling strong. A group effort. Is that what he means? “I don’t understand. Is it restraint or escape that let us resist the siren’s song?”
“A bit of both. Then dig in.”
Monica's Monday Morning Flash 