“Dig faster!” cried one of the town elders.
“They are!” howled another.
It was a catastrophe this collection of forest gnomes could never have imagined.
A giant – peaceful but tired – was fast asleep atop a nearby ridge. Every inhale, the ground shook. Every exhale, his massive body came dangerously close to slipping from its perch and rolling down the grassy hill, putting their hidden woodland village in danger.
An emergency plan was quickly devised. But their digging wasn’t fast enough, the trenches not deep enough.
Until the giant sat up. And stretched. And yawned.
And went on with his day.
The Weekday One Hundred 