Yay! It’s the weekend!!! So that can really only mean ONE THING!!
It’s time for the #weekendfreewrite!
Each week 
You can find this week’s first prompt here: https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/weekend-freewrite-9-14-2019-part-1-the-first-sentence
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"Aren't you risking your reputation by coming here?" She frowned.
"Don't be like that, mother," I said. I looked over my shoulder. "Are you going to let me in?"
She looked past me at the crowd behind me.
"Oy! You lot! Bugger off! 'Es me son."
There was a murmur that rose from the crowd like scum on an old cup of tea. I heard the sound of swords being sheathed and I let the breath out I had been storing in my lungs in case it was my last. Mother stood aside and opened the door.
"Get yer arse in here then Yoblo and make yourself useful and put the kettle on."
I entered the house and wiped my feet on the mat that read "Not Welcome". My mother always had a very special sense of humour.
"Well?" Mother said as I filled the kettle from the jug of water that sat on the side beside a pile of cleanish dishes. "What brings you here?"
…
"She comes for the food," he said.
I almost dropped the kettle in surprise. He turned out to be a rather small elf.
Not all elves are as small as people think. Some of them are taller than men. I once met one that towered over me.
This one, however, was tiny. If I had wanted to I could have crushed it in my fist. At that point, I did not want to do so.
"Who the fuck are you?" I asked the elf.
Mother tutted.
"Language! I didn't drag you up to speak to elves in such vulgar ways. You've changed since you moved up to the castle. Yer Dad - gawd rest 'is soul - said you would. And he was right."
The elf stared at me and then extended a fist and raised a finger mouthing the words "fuck you". I said nothing.
"This," mother said, "is Keldry. And he is my new husband."
I almost dropped the kettle again.
"Husband? You married that?"
…
"She comes for the food," the elf said again. I frowned squinting in the half-light of my mother's hovel. On his tiny hand (the one he hadn't used to give me the finger) was a tiny bird. It was smaller than the fingernail on my little finger. I stepped forward to take a better look. As I did so it screeched.
This time I did drop the kettle. It fell on my foot and I yelled, water poured everywhere. The bird screeched louder - how could something so small make such an infernal racket?
My mother shouted "now look what you've done you clumsy oaf!" and the elf chuckled. I wanted to crush the little fucker in my fist.
"I think you have outstayed your welcome," Mother said.
"But..." I said.
"Go on, get out!"
"But mother, I have a message from the King!"
Mother stopped and smiled.
"Tell his majesty that if he wants the curse lifted he'll need to come and see me himself." She sniffed. "And not send his snivelling little messenger boy. Now, bugger off!"
...
As usual, I used themostdangerouswritingapp.com to write each five-minute freewrite (and then tidied it up a bit in google docs afterward):
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@felt.buzz curation accounts: 
@felt.buzz.pal 
@felt.buzz.leo 
@felt.buzz.sports 
@felt.buzz.weed 
@felt.buzz.marl 
@felt.buzz.ccc 
@felt.buzz.neox @felt.buzz.sonicgroove…
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The NEW @SteemFiction book has been published! Currently available on Amazon for the Kindle it will soon be available as a paperback.
Dead Silence
9 tales of MURDER from some of your favourite STEEM writers!
Check out the trailer for the book!
I have a story in it called The Still Blood-Soaked Path
A YouTube documentary film-maker visits a remote island to investigate the horrific murder of a young woman, and the subsequent suicide of her killer almost thirty years ago. But was the young lover really responsible for the brutal slaying of his girlfriend? And if not who was?
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Voices In The Darkness (the first 
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@steemitbloggers has evolved! We are now the #PowerHouseCreatives....
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