Colorful Induction

Every since she was a little girl, Gail dreamed of being a fairy. She dreamed of being able to fly with wings of her own. Of leaving a trail of glitter in the sky. Of using her fairy magic to help other girls like her. She looked wistfully out her window every night, spending hours wishing she could fly from house to house, to find other girls like her. Girls without hope. Girls without dreams.

Gail was dying. Each day brought death a step closer. Each day she felt the weakness in her limbs grow, the fluttering of her heart grow more frequent, her breath grow more shallow, her pulse grow slower, and weaker.

She sat in her chair, staring out her window, looking at the clouds, and wished she could be a fairy, and fly in the sky at least once before her time in life reached its end.

That’s when the fairies answered her. Flying through her window. Spreading fairy dust of gold and silver all around the room, and all over her, as they sang a song of flying in the sky.

Gail fell asleep that night, sitting in her chair. “Thank you, fairies,” she declared, “for your lovely song.”

She woke up the next morning, resting on her window sill, beneath the light of the rising sun, her heartbeat regular and strong, the breeze caressing her hair. She sat up on the window sill to discover she wore a dress of rose leaves, held together by strong silk, woven by the spiders. She realized there were no shoes on her feet, and someone had woven tiny blue flowers into her hair.

Gail had to smile, for she knew there were fairy wings upon her back. Shaped like the wings of a butterfly, in sapphire blue and white. Wings all her own.

She remembered the fairies that had visited her that night, with glitter of gold, and silvery white, and the song they sang to her. And she knew somehow the fairies flight, and the glitter of the night were a colorful induction of her wounded, lonely heart into the sisterhood of fairies.

She knew she would fly on fairy wings that night.

#DFQWBS : I Think That Went Well, Don’t You?

I stood on my hind feet, balanced on my tail so I could stay upright. “Well, dear,” I said to my wife, “The Dark Fairy Queen and the Wizard of Moog are now married. We pulled it off.” Of course, it came out more a string of squeaks, chirps, and clicking sounds.

“Indeed, we did,” she replied. “But it wasn’t pretty.” I had to admit her voice was very pretty to listen to. Of course she wouldn’t think it was pretty. I was temporarily a four-foot long, albino chipmunk and she was a bird of paradise. “How long do you think it’ll be before…” She let her question trail off.

“Oh, I’m certain it’ll only be a few days. A week at most.”

It had been quite a wedding. All the friends of the Dark Fairy Queen sat on the left side of the clearing. All the friends of the Wizard on the right. The groom wore his best wizard hat, a full three feet tall, in royal purple, with pure gold stars, crescent moons, and comets artfully displayed on it. He wore a royal purple robe, trimmed in solid gold with a six-inch diameter gold clasp holding it around his neck. He word white bamboo sandals, purple and gold Bermuda shorts and a tie dyed purple and gold t-shirt with a picture of the Dark Fairy Queen herself painted on the front. He looked absolutely regal.

When they saw him, everyone on the queen’s side of the clearing broke up laughing.

The queen wore black from head to toe. Skin-tight black leather jeans, a black corset that made her bosom virtually impossible to avoid staring at, black leather stilettos, a black lace veil, and black lace gloves that ran up her arms, past her elbows. She had on black lipstick and black eyeshadow.

Everyone male on the wizard’s side of the clearing drooled.

Everything went well until the Wizard turned to me and said, “The ring.” I opened the box, and the ring wasn’t there. I’d looked at my fingers. I started going through my pockets. “The ring, if you please!” the Wizard asked me a second time. I took off my tuxedo jacket, and started turning its pockets inside out. The two groomsmen race from the clearing, retracing our steps, looking for the ring.

The Queen echoed through the clearing, “You lost my ring!” Everyone in the clearing scattered, fleeing into the forest, seeking safety.

“I haven’t lost it. I’ve just temporarily misplaced it,” I tried to explain. The Wizard stepped to the side, leaving me to face the Queen. She waved her hands in the air above her head, glitter floated everywhere, and she screamed, “#MOOGHOOHAH!”

Presto! I was a giant, four-foot long, albino chipmunk. It was actually a good thing, because as my tuxedo fell away, the ring fell out where it had gotten stuck between my belt and my tummy. “The ring! I found it!” I squealed.

“What have you done to my hubby?” My wife, bless her, should have known to not say anything.

The queen faced her, laughed, looked at me and asked, “You married her?”

All I could do was nod. One simply does not lie to the Dark Fairy Queen.

The Queen shook her head as she turned back to my wife, waved her hands in the air again, causing more glitter to float around, and once more screamed, “#MOOGHOOHA!” And I was married to a beautiful bird of paradise.

I handed the Wizard the ring. He put it on the Queen’s ring finger, “With this ring, I thee wed,” he boldly proclaimed. I squeaked, my wife sang, and the Queen and the Wizard kissed. The Wizard waved his arms, and in a puff of black and white smoke, he and his bride were off on their honeymoon.

I laughed, which sounded like a string of chirps, and then chirped and squeaked out, “I think, all things considered, that went well, don’t you?” And I really hoped we both would return to normal in a few days.


A toast to the couple.

When you wake, 30 years from now, may you both realize you love each other more than you ever have before.

Mark.


Now, go read the rest of the stories in the Dark Fairy Queen Writerly Bridal Shower. And don’t forget to make a toast to the happy couple.