Gnome. Steve White

Simon believed it was luck when he saw the garden gnome. He should have stumbled past it. It was dark and he was drunk. His eyes blinked a couple of times as his brain tried to override the alcohol blurring his vision. Then he grinned mischievously in recognition. It was a gnome. He giggled as if seeing an old friend. It looked out of place, on its own, in the middle of the garden. The nearest street light was like a spotlight and the lawn it sat upon its stage. The gnome stood facing the house in its custom…