“An Eye to See.” M.J. Downing When the wind kicks up dried leaves in your path and the night grows longer, the walls between the worlds grow thin. The last sere breath of summer rattles though nature’s parched lips, and the year makes ready to die.  It still dreams, though, the old year does, and... Continue Reading →

M. J. Downing. Leaving aside his famous ancestor, Bandobras, Hildifons Took numbered amongst the boldest of Hobbits in any era. However, as courageous as he was, dread accompanied his thoughts about crossing the Misty Mountains with Stapa. Though he never mentioned this to Stapa, Hilds noticed that the big lad bent wary eyes on the... Continue Reading →

“Scrooge, In the Time of Cholera.” M.J. Downing.             Stave Six: Marley’s Return.             “Bob, my lad,” Scrooge said, as he stood in his countinghouse before the desk of his new partner, Mr. Robert Cratchit, “we must do something about the mill conditions in this country.” Grim faced, Scrooge shoved wool mittens, socks, and hats,... Continue Reading →

“Jaxson Slone and Hygelac’s Bones: A Halloween Tale.” M.J. Downing. Illustrated by Anthony Nowicke Jaxson Slone sat beneath an ancient oak tree at the edge of the woods behind his house. Spreading branches above him creaked in the Halloween wind that ruffled his black hair. The moon road low over the hill, and Jaxson shivered. ... Continue Reading →

M.J. Downing.             “I see more of these cells, like ours, Hilds,” Stapa said, staring through the grated window that looked onto Bold Hurin’s courtyard. “All that I can see have the bar down on the door like ours does.  He might have lots of prisoners, maybe even more hobbits.”             Hilds stared at the... Continue Reading →

Tolkien Fan Fiction by M.J. Downing. “Heroism in Tharbad.” M.J. Downing. Part 1.             “There.  We’ve reached the entrance to Ketil’s halls,” Hilds said, pointing to a dark archway at the end of a valley in the foothills of the Blue Mountains.  The path that ran on before them went through a deep defile. It... Continue Reading →

“Lights, Like Marfa” By M. J. Downing “You know, lights, like in Marfa,” the taller said, sitting at the bar to my far left.  The shorter fellow nearer me returned his gaze, blinking and shaking his head ’no.’  The taller guy might have been sixty, might have been thirty. I had a hard time pegging his... Continue Reading →

M.J. Downing. Part One. Of all the heroic line of the Took family, little has been said of Old Gerontius’ son Hildifons. Among Gerontius’ heirs, it is said that Hildifons, known simply as Dark Hilds by his family and few friends, was the closest in stature, manner, and mood to Bandobras, “the Bullroarer.” Hilds grew... Continue Reading →

M.J. Downing Plain hobbit-sense, really, freed daily life in the Shire and its environs, especially in Bilbo’s day, from the threat of evils that had plagued Eriador for many centuries. Working a craft or service, farming the land, brewing ale and such simple tasks were the occupations of this little people, time out of mind. ... Continue Reading →

“Tramping in The Shire.” M.J. Downing.              Bilbo looked up at the high clouds, blown over the Shire from the West, seeing things that Frodo could not. “Where do the years go, Frodo, when they leave us? I’m sure that they’re out there somewhere, aren’t they?  I remember them all, those days when I lived,... Continue Reading →