Sarah sighed inwardly while maintaining her outward calm. She glanced at Jareth who had a stupid goblin grin plastered all over his face. It was a smile that was all sharp teeth and very much the look of a predator. It absolutely did not make her want to shove him onto the nearest flat surface and straddle his stupid tight breeches. She side eyed him in passing and noted that his grin was showing even more teeth, because of course he could smell her frustration and arousal.
Brushing her hands down her skirts to settle herself, Sarah strode regally into the room to judge the entrants.
She could admit to herself that it was her own fault that she was in this situation, but she never expected a throw away comment about county fairs to have proven so enthralling. Her childhood memories of attendance were mostly about weird food, carnival games and rides seemed designed to separate the riders from their weird food.
A junior school trip had shown her the agricultural side of the fairs with petting zoos of baby farm animals, produce displays and livestock judging. She hadn’t thought about it in years, but had done her best to recall the details to an audience of unexpectedly rapt goblins, who had met her tale with oohs and aahs and surprisingly astute queries. She was now kicking herself that an afternoon’s respite came with a cost.
Sarah hadn’t been too surprised to learn that the goblins had readily taken to the concept of fried food on a stick. She was however a little astonished that they’d managed to successfully pull off deep fried goblin ale. Somewhere Above there was a Texan kicking themselves for not coming up with that culinary improbability.
The cotton candy had been a predictable disaster. The only upside being that the clean up had attracted so many eager helpers that the area was quickly cleansed of the sugary residue. Clean being a relative term if you objected to goblin saliva.
With a gracious smile Sarah scrutinised each of what appeared to be identical black chickens, asking their proud owners for details. It was a good thing that the goblins had managed to misinterpret her description of livestock judging with Above beauty contests, as her decision on a winner was going to be based on the chicken wearing the most elaborate costume that still allowed it freedom of movement.
As Sarah announced the winners, Jareth appeared at her side, handing her a selection of small medals.
“This is ridiculous.” Sarah ensured the winner’s headdress wasn’t tangled in the ribbon as she carefully placed it around the bird’s neck.
“Perhaps.” Jareth’s breath ghosted her ear. “But your subjects love you and have been better behaved than I would have credited.” He nodded towards a cluster of conferring goblins. “Although I daresay that lot would also like a prize.”
Turning her head to look into his eyes, Sarah mimicked his goblin grin. “That, my love, is your problem.”
Evaluation
Drabble:
Sarah sighed inwardly while maintaining her outward calm. She glanced at Jareth who had a stupid goblin grin plastered all over his face. It was a smile that was all sharp teeth and very much the look of a predator. It absolutely did not make her want to shove him onto the nearest flat surface and straddle his stupid tight breeches. She side eyed him in passing and noted that his grin was showing even more teeth, because of course he could smell her frustration and arousal.
Brushing her hands down her skirts to settle herself, Sarah strode regally into the room to judge the entrants.
She could admit to herself that it was her own fault that she was in this situation, but she never expected a throw away comment about county fairs to have proven so enthralling. Her childhood memories of attendance were mostly about weird food, carnival games and rides seemed designed to separate the riders from their weird food.
A junior school trip had shown her the agricultural side of the fairs with petting zoos of baby farm animals, produce displays and livestock judging. She hadn’t thought about it in years, but had done her best to recall the details to an audience of unexpectedly rapt goblins, who had met her tale with oohs and aahs and surprisingly astute queries. She was now kicking herself that an afternoon’s respite came with a cost.
Sarah hadn’t been too surprised to learn that the goblins had readily taken to the concept of fried food on a stick. She was however a little astonished that they’d managed to successfully pull off deep fried goblin ale. Somewhere Above there was a Texan kicking themselves for not coming up with that culinary improbability.
The cotton candy had been a predictable disaster. The only upside being that the clean up had attracted so many eager helpers that the area was quickly cleansed of the sugary residue. Clean being a relative term if you objected to goblin saliva.
With a gracious smile Sarah scrutinised each of what appeared to be identical black chickens, asking their proud owners for details. It was a good thing that the goblins had managed to misinterpret her description of livestock judging with Above beauty contests, as her decision on a winner was going to be based on the chicken wearing the most elaborate costume that still allowed it freedom of movement.
As Sarah announced the winners, Jareth appeared at her side, handing her a selection of small medals.
“This is ridiculous.” Sarah ensured the winner’s headdress wasn’t tangled in the ribbon as she carefully placed it around the bird’s neck.
“Perhaps.” Jareth’s breath ghosted her ear. “But your subjects love you and have been better behaved than I would have credited.” He nodded towards a cluster of conferring goblins. “Although I daresay that lot would also like a prize.”
Turning her head to look into his eyes, Sarah mimicked his goblin grin. “That, my love, is your problem.”