A Close Bond Across Generations

My mum’s from Cornwall, from a little village called Blue Hill to be exact. I was always really close to my grandad—her dad. Ever since I was little, he’d take me everywhere with him, even to work. I loved listening to his stories, all the tales and experiences he’d had over the years.

One time, I asked him if he’d ever seen fairies. He said no, but he *had* seen witches—and even shapeshifters. I didn’t know what a shapeshifter was, so I asked him to explain. He said they were sorcerers who could turn into any animal, even fly if they wanted.

He told me that after leaving the army, he worked as a night watchman for a cornfield in Blue Hill. His job was to keep an eye on the crops so no one nicked them. One night, he got there around nine, and right away, he felt something was off. The air was thick, freezing cold, and the full moon cast this eerie glow over everything.

As usual, he started walking the field. Past midnight, he sat down in his chair, but exhaustion hit him hard, and he started drifting off. He said in that moment, he *knew* something bad was coming. A chill shot through him, like something unseen was getting closer.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps rustling through the corn—like someone was out there. He grabbed his rifle. Having been in the military, he knew how to handle a gun, and back then, you had to look after yourself. Rifle ready, he shouted, “Who’s there?” All he heard was laughter—moving around, getting nearer.

Steeling himself, he stepped into the field, weapon up. Then he saw a pig bolt out from the rows. He thought it was just a stray, so he chased it. Just as he reached for its tail, the pig stood on its hind legs and kept running. My grandad froze, couldn’t believe his eyes.

He aimed to shoot, but before he could pull the trigger, wings sprouted from the thing’s back, and it shot into the sky, cackling. Fear locked him in place. The rifle slipped from his hands, landing on his foot. The pain snapped him out of it. He crossed himself, grabbed the gun, and bolted home, still shaking.

He’d only ever *heard* of shapeshifters before—never thought he’d meet one. Even now, when he tells me, he gets goosebumps. And I don’t doubt he saw something… because when he talks about it, his eyes go distant, like he’s right back there that night.

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A Close Bond Across Generations