Thornhill

A/N: Okay, today’s post, which is a flash fiction, was originally a challenge! 

Nothing was allowed to actually happen, I had to mostly just describe the weather, and the narrator had to be omniscient. And yet it had to be entertaining. Let me know if you think I succeeded!


It was a horrendously beautiful day.

The roses had bloomed over the night, and the garden was now heavy with the sweet scent of them. The sun was shining above the people of Thornhill, too brilliant and clear and smug not to sentient, but everyone down there thought it lovely. Self-satisfied bastard.

The lady’s maid hoped that the lady would take a walk in the garden, so that she herself could enjoy the same sunshine.

The stable boy was grinning from ear to ear, hardly able to think of anything better than the warm feeling of the sun on his bare face.

The butler thought it a bit too bright, but it was merely the amount of alcohol that he’d consumed the previous day that made him any sort of sensible.

It was a horrendously beautiful day, and it would only become better from now on.

How dreadful.

3 thoughts on “Thornhill

  1. I love this! It really made me smile. I totally understand your description of “a horrendously beautiful day” and describing it as smug. Somedays, if I am not on good form, if the sun is streaming in through the windows and I feel its warmth on my face I could very easily swear at it. You sum up this frustration with overly happy weather very well 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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