Microfiction: The Custom of the country

This is for Sonya’s Three Line Tales photo prompt.

photo by Adi Ulici via Unsplash


Since they were small they’d know not to fool around with the portals, that parallel universes weren’t always fun and sometimes the curious never came back, so they only had themselves to blame when the new people they visited turned out to be less than friendly and marched them in chains to their sacred place.

“It’s only an electricity pylon,” he said to his friend, nodding scornfully at the gaunt metallic structure that held out its arms against the evening sky. “Are these people really so backward they worship our antiquated junk?”

But in parallel worlds with no electricity, pylons have another use, and when the next dawn broke, the morning sky had soaked up the flames and the screams from the indestructible wicker man, leaving just a pile of smoking bones at its foot.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

9 thoughts on “Microfiction: The Custom of the country”

    1. Thank you! It’s the kind of world where things are not what they seem, and certainly not what we expect. You might be right about there being an idea in there…

  1. Wow! It does have a strangely human look it it, you’re right. I can imagine someone inside there. Chilling, chilling idea Jane. Nicely done 🙂

    1. Thank you 🙂 The wicker man is probably apocryphal, but if the Celts did go to such trouble with their sacrifices, I imagine they’d have appreciated a wicker man they could use over and over again 🙂

      1. Very practical! They weren’t averse to the odd blood sacrifice, were they, but you might be right – a wicker man is not the easiest way to go about it!

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