THE HOBBIT HOLE

Not many people know about the hobbit hole although large and obscure, you still have to look, and want to look for it, to know of its existence. The grasses of the land whisper of it, and bedridden relatives will tell of stories of old in deep hushed tones. Those who do have the knowledge never forget it. The plants that grew around it, grew tall and thick, as if to protect it from unknown enemies. While mushrooms and crocuses grew in dense fairy rings circling and haunting the place.

One popular tale told, was of a young lad, who went by the name Jim. It was he who stumbled across it in an hour of need. Having had an uneventful day of fishing, he was walking with great speed towards the safety and heat of the fire. While walking though the thickest parts of the grass surrounding the hobbit hole he planted his foot firmly in to a ditch, buried by the long sharp points of thorns. There came a ferocious hiss, followed by weaker, but equally as deadly ones. He was one of the lucky ones who knew of the old wives tale of the mysterious hole. Scrabbling away from the deadly poisonous snakes he banged his head on something hard but hollow. Without a second thought to what may lay behind, he grappled with the handle and yanked the heavy oak door which creaked slowly but surely open. It opened inwards, to save the struggle of pulling it through the shrubbery but it was still by no means easy to shut. The tunnel behind him was endless, and lit by no light source he could see. Running as fast as his stumpy legs could carry him he advanced his way down the passage. Although the passage looked endless, soon enough he was emerged in sunlight. How he emerged he never could tell but looking behind him there was nothing out of the ordinary from where he was standing. Blinking and panting he made the steady journey back to his fire. Vowing under his breath to tell any children he may have in later years just where to find it although now he came to think of it, he couldn’t quite think where it was himself!