Writing Challenge: June 22, 2018
Prompt: Everyone knows that trolls grow in size to fit their bridges. The troll under the Golden Gate Bridge just woke up.
It is a commonly known fact that trolls grow in size to match their bridges the same way hermit crabs always find the perfect-sized shell. How the trolls came to grow, no one is sure, but the fact remains that small trolls live under small bridges, and big trolls live under big bridge. While not every bridge has a troll, all trolls have a bridge.
For decades everyone assumed that the Golden Gate Bridge was troll-less. After-all, a troll that size would have been seen by now. There wasn’t a troll under the Brooklyn Bride, or London Bridge, so why would there be a troll under the Golden Gates? That’s where the world was wrong.
Once the ribbon was cut, the fanfare was over, and the bridge opened, a respectable freeway overpass troll named Crawly took up residence. A little-known fact about trolls is that the larger a troll becomes, the more that troll will sleep. This a survival mechanism: big bodies use more energy. How does a big body conserve energy? Sleep. When Crawly first moved under the Golden Gate Bridge he expanded in size with rapidity that was shocking even for a troll. For decade Crawly slept through his growth-spurt, until one day the noise of the traffic of the bridge woke him from his slumber.
The water churned as massive arms stretched away years of sleep. Wind blew like a typhoon as a gigantic mouth opened wide to yawn. Cars stretched to a halt and people screamed as a enormous body rose from the water beneath the bridge. Everyone has seen a troll, but no one had ever seen a troll that large.
Crawly rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the sleep that lingered there. He could hear so much noise and commotion. What was happening? Pulling one heavy eyelid open, he saw blurry insects running chaotically across the bridge. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. No, they weren’t insects running over the bridge, but PEOPLE. Crawly took a look at his humongous body for the first time since he fell asleep under the Golden Gate Bridge.
How had he gotten so big? He knew he would grow, but this was too much. How long had he been asleep? Nothing looked familiar. Everything seemed so loud, so bright, and so fast-paced. There were lights everywhere: flashing so bright and annoying. Standing in the water, Crawly looked around him in a daze. Why was everything to LOUD? Cars honking, breaks screeching, people yelling, shouting, talking, screaming. They seemed scared of him. Why? He was a nice troll. A friendly troll. He liked people, but they were all running and screaming. His head hurt. Everything was so confusing. What all had changed. He was lost, he was confused, and even worse, he was hungry, but what could he eat? What would fill his cavernous stomach? Seagulls were too small, too tough, and too full of trash. There were manatees, but he always liked them- so big, so floppy, and cute- he couldn’t imagine eating them.
Crawly took a step, thinking of what he could eat. Waves broke around his legs. Boats rocked furiously in the water- capsizing in his wake. He tried to save the sinking ships, gently lifting them from the water to save terrified crew members. He tried walking slower, gliding his legs along the bay’s bottom to minimize the motions. It was no use. The waves kept coming, the boats kept sinking, and his hands were getting full. This was terrible. It was a nightmare.
Maybe moving under the Golden Gate Bridge was a bad idea.