‘Brick, of course. Stone,’ said Patrice, the elder architect.
‘Pah!’ cried Anton, the new architect. ‘The only material strong enough to build a home with is bones. ‘
‘Bones? Lunacy!’ Declared Patrice.
‘Where would you find such big bones, sir?’ Asked Lewis.
‘I would go beyond the West River, where the giant’s live, and kill a giant and use his bones,’ said Anton, pointing out of the window towards the mountians in the distance.
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Said Patrice. ‘The giants live by the East River.’
A Friday Fictioneers story from a prompt supplied by the wonderful Rochelle Wisoff-Fields