Who is Mrs. Grumplestone to you? 🙂

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Mrs. Grumplestone was in fact not a grump at all. It was guilty by association. When you were new (ish) to town and the word “grump” was a prominent part of your name, the definition of the word attached itself to the human. “Stone” on the other hand—now that was where the magic came in. And the townspeople were bypassing the stand-offish nature of grump and coming around to the magic of the stones.

Mrs. Grumplestone fiddled with the handles of her satchel and tapped the ribbon that held her bun in place. Stop it, she told herself. You’re going to be great.

Mrs. Grumplestone was on her way to visit two gnome siblings that were in need of her magic and her stones, but they had requested the meeting at their workshop. The Tinker’s Workshop. Everyone in town knew this Tinkerer. Most of the townspeople probably knew him by reputation alone and the children because of the toys and trinkets he sold for pennies at the fairs and markets on holidays.

The tinkerer, Tump. Mrs. Grumplstone sniffed at the name, but it was quickly followed with, But who am I to judge?

“This must be it,” she muttered to herself, stopping at the gate where a makeshift sign said LET YOURSELF IN.

The yard could only be described as…wild. Plants—potted and not—spilled over the edges of their pots and beds, trailing into the walkways and around piles of materials scattered throughout the yard, some of which must have been there awhile as wild grass was starting to grow up around them.

Mrs. Grumplestone swung the gate open and stepped onto the overgrown haphazardly placed stepping stones. She could feel a light energy coming from the stones as she continued picking her way across them.

A moment later the path split off toward the right…

Mrs. Grumplestone squinted at the building at the end of the path. “It must be the workshop” and adjusted course.

The closer to the workshop she got, the pulse in the stones heightened. Mrs. Grumplestone was unsure if it was her or the Tinkerer. When she reached the double

doors—barn doors—the right one was ajar and a sign of same makeshift quality as the gate hung on it:

PLEASE RING

Mrs. Grumplestone reached up to pat her bun, but stopped herself patting her satchel instead.

At the sound of the clanking the already-ajar door was thrown open and a wide-eyed Tump the Tinkerer grinned up at her. “Ah, Mrs. G! Right on time. Come in!”

Mrs. Grumplestone crossed the threshold. Tump’s sister was perched on a stool, elbows on a table, and waved heartily in her direction.

“Do you want anything to drink? Coffee? Tea?” Tump offered, leading the way to

“Tea would be great,” she said. “Tump, what are we meeting about?”

The gnome’s grin grew. “Your stones! You ready for an adventure Mrs. G.?”

Mrs. Grumplestone pressed her lips together. She had heard how dramatic the siblings could be but had thought it had been exaggerated. She patted her satchel. “I guess so.”

“Agabus! Grab Mrs. G. some tea will ya? Then we’ll settle in!”

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This week’s #flashfictionmagic prompt brought to you by writer Emily Barnett on IG. Read more stories in this community here. Read more stories over on the blog’s Story Corner page here 🙂

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Writing Process Notes:

1/19/24

// 10:41am-11:47am. PUP with Judith and Feya. Typing up the story at my writing desk. Listening to “write” playlist. Sending in an email to myself to post on IG when I get back from my walk. Word Count: 527

// 2:50ish-3:45pm. Writing desk. Posting the story on IG, here, FB/Twitter.