The miller's false coin

I’m Tomas, a miller with a limp and a life that’s ground down to a fine, dull dust. The hills don’t care, long as I keep their bread coming. Then a trader with a grin like a kicked weasel hands me a coin that feels wrong—too heavy, too sly. Next thing I know, my days turn into a parade of petty disasters: grain that won’t cooperate, livestock acting like they’ve got a grudge, and a village full of folk who’d rather roast me than starve.

It’s not just bad luck—it’s personal, like the world’s playing a joke and I’m the punchline. The baker’s ready to turn me into stew, the shepherd’s cursing his flock, and I’m stuck wondering why everything I touch goes sideways. Something’s stirring, small and mean, and it’s got my name on it. I’d laugh, but I’m too busy dodging the pitchforks. Welcome to my mess: one mill, one fool, and a fight to keep the hills from eating me alive.