Geoffrey stood squinting through the fog. The ground beneath him was getting softer, so he knew the river must be close by.
Not being able to see his feet wasn’t new to Geoff. Being a giant meant that there was almost a mile between his toes and his smile.
He fumbled through his pocket and pulled out a torch. The light oozed through the pea soup, leading the way. “A morning bath really shouldn’t be this difficult”, he grumbled to himself. “I bet if I wasn’t a giant I wouldn’t have to wait for the bloody bathroom in the morning.”
Submitted for Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. See if you can write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words.
