Grom the false troll

It began like any other day, the birds chirped joyfully the sun shined brightly and everything annoyed Grom.  He was always angry about something, possibly his skin discolouration or the way his back had constant pain forcing him to slouch over, but most likely the fact that everyone thought he was a troll.  He wasn’t a troll, as far as he knew such things were fiction only.  He lived in a decrepit building formerly labeled a church.  He moved in to enjoy appearing normal under the tint of stained glass.  As unhappy as Grom was he would soon long for this solitude. 



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