Fairy life
Sleep sweet fairy? Really?
I am a man fairy, a guy who slogs through life, miserable at every minute of it.
While
all those cutie flower fairies are curled up in their teacup flowers,
here I am trudging along, guarding them from some unknown terror. Like
anyone is going to attack our little piece of unreal heaven in the
middle of the night.
What
did I do before? I used to be a fairy who crafted little stuff. You
need a box? I can do that. Just give me a walnut, and it's done.
But when age shut that down, well, here I am, just a bent over old fairy with crumbling wings, cursing every step.
Life sucks. So here I am...chasing after blinking bugs in the middle of the night.
Catching lightning bugs to blink-blink-blink a bumpy path? That is a life no one never ever
should have to do. Those damn bugs have no brains. Their only gift to
the fairy world is their shiny butts. They die at the end of night, new
bugs pop out and I, a former artisan in fairy art, have to catch 'em,
lock 'em up. Mindless buggers.
When the sun comes up, those damn flower fairies will practice their songs. I'll head on to my shabby home, where my old fairy wife will make my life hell.
Thank you, dear Fairy Goddess, for the fairy nectar fermenting into a healing liquid in my dreary house.
I need every drop.
I wrote another fairy story, using Wednesday Words as the base, back in 2017. This is one I never published, from 2020.
Earlier "Fairy in Mud Hell" can be found thecontemplativecat.blogspot.com .