“Don't hate me
because I'm beautiful.”
Legolas*
#quote
Today I looked
in the mirror and said, “That is a mirror.” Anyway onto the flash
fiction!
Delivering
Dreams
Overworked
faeries bobbed through the night sky carrying ethereal packages with
their magic. The wind battered them and their brown uniforms didn't
fit any respectable fashion. Whenever they passed by their coworkers
some of them managed to smile, the ones who could were usually early
in their long routes.
Goodwind, a
young fairy new to this line of work, wished he had one of the more
pleasant fairy jobs. Like watching flowers while sprinkling fairy
dust on them to promote growth. But instead he delivered dreams to
those who slept.
Dreary normal
delivery happened tonight until he slammed into an imp mid-flight.
“Watch where
you're going pretty boy!” The red-skinned, warty creature pointed.
Goodwind only could assume that the pretty boy remark referenced his
long, luxurious hair. For both elf and fairy kind it became
culturally mandatory to keep their hair long and beautiful for both
sexes. Nobody really knew when it started, historians thought it was
a mandate by the two newly crowned kings of both races to annoying
their balding fathers.
Goodwind
fluttered in place, “Sorry, I'm j-just doin' my job.” Normally
any fairy doing the tedious, soul sucking duty of dream delivery
would have instantly thrown into a rage, but Goodwind hated such
heated conflict. He grew up around a group of hornet-winged faeries,
and their temper ingrained in him a fear of anger.
The imp flicked
his split tongue at him, talking with bits of spit in the air. “Well
I've got a nightmare to deliver to a little old lady on 47th
Street and you're slowing me down.” Goodwind wasn't sure to point
out that this conversation slowed down his delivery. He then realized
that only one old lady lived on 47th Street and he was due
to deliver a dream to her. The order of the world was that fairy kind
delivered dreams and imps delivered nightmares. What was going on
here?
“S-sir, I've
got a dream to deliver there. I think there is a problem.”
The imp punched
Goodwind. “Miserable little fairy! I don't make no mistakes! Now
flutter on home while I deliver my package.” Goodwind felt his sore
face. He hadn't lost a tooth. The sheer shock of the imp's actions
startled him so much he couldn't move. He'd never heard of an imp
doing something like that. Thinking back to the little bit of
training they had for the job he tried to remember what they said
about imp encounters.
An old dream
deliveryman told him on his first day, “Imps are pathetic, weak
bullies. The only way to reason with them is a loud voice and sharp
look.”
Goodwind flew
up to the imp. His memories recalled the hornet winged faeries from
his childhood and how bad it was to cross them. He hesitated for a
moment, but then thought about he wasn't a small fairy with little
wings. And this wasn't a hornet of any kind. He pulled the goblin
around and raised his fist before speaking.
“Check your
package again you little red worm.” Goodwind glared at
gnarly-toothed thing.
The imp
shivered and looked at the package. The imp made a mistake, the
nightmare was meant for a different address. “O-o-h-he-y! My
mistake! Gotta go!” The imp flew off. Goodwind was never going to
punch the imp. Apparently the red menace only choose to go after
someone it figured it could get away with bullying. And if Goodwind
had stayed in the same mental state he did as a child, the imp may
have done it.
No comments:
Post a Comment