Escapist Fiction

She woke up on Saturday morning with the best of intentions. She even had a list. There was a little shopping to do and then she’d clean the house, walk the dog… But it never happened. Well, rather, shopping happened until she saw a book at the check stand and started flipping through it.

The next thing she knew, she was flying through a tunnel towards a bright light. She pinched herself, realized nothing was amiss, and began to notice odd things at the checkstand. Gummy witches, scarecrow corn chips. Then she noticed she wore a gingham dress and ruby slippers.

Fairy Dust

The village wise woman was sure he was a changeling. “He was kidnapped by fairies.”

They took the boy to the middle of the forest on the night of a blue moon, left him in a clearing, then hid themselves. He disappeared in a puff of smoke. They heard a baby cry.

”How will we know if it’s ours,” the father said.

”What if it’s not?” The mother burst into tears.

They picked the baby up, a beautiful little girl, and brought her to the wise woman. “Raise her well. She’s been touched by magic; soon she’ll take my place.”

Jack, the Giant’s Chef Extraordinaire

Jack smelled promise in the beans before he traded them for his cow. He imagined a palette of flavors, a cassoulet fit for the king.

His mother fumed. “We need money now.” She tossed the beans into the Earth’s maw.

Overnight a beanstalk grew. It led straight to the giant’s garden where the giantess was weeding. She caught him red-handed stealing beans. “No you don’t.”

“I only want to taste them.”

“Cook them well and you’re hired. Poorly and you’re dinner.”

Hours later, the ground shook. “Fee, fie, foe… what is that delicious aroma, Wife?” And the giant was satisfied.

The Magic Diaspora

Dressed for travel, carpet bags packed, the Little People gathered around Granny Ellen’s grave. Saddened by Granny’s death, they knew that not a one of the village folk could take her place. She was the last of the elf whisperers. She spoke for nature. The elves reckoned the time for talk was past and the time for action too far in the future.

Gaia was resigned. The elves were united. Earth’s people had ignored drying trees, tolerated the stinky air and the murky water. Gaia summoned the Milky Way to make a staircase and the elves set off for home.

Never, Never Underestimate a Fairy

I’m not an ill humored creature. The opposite. Fairies have sweet natures. Ask anyone except Captain Hook. He and I don’t get on. And though Peter Pan and I have our differences, I believe he would tell you that I have a heart of gold. Literally, a gold heart.

This is a problem. Greedy people try to do away with me. Hook has attempted more than once with a net of electric eel and kelp, but I always slip through the holes. Unless a fairy is in a snit, she’s size flexible and current impervious. Fortunately, I’m chill as gold.

When Life Gives You Lily Pads…

It was Aaron’s first Frogs to Princes convention. He’d found the event in an advertisement in the Pond Courier. Lectures ranged from “Curse Avoidance” to “Sounding Suave With a Frog in Your Throat.” He needed a laugh. He’d been desolate since his fairy godmother had been unable to reverse the spell that turned him into a frog.

The hall buzzed with the upper crust, royal accented croaks of enchanted frogs. All were princes. He started counting and quickly decided that there were more frogs than eligible princesses. A pragmatist, Aaron decided to find a lady frog and start a family.

Earthly Delights

Circe daydreamed under an oak tree that grew on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Her pet pig, Ulysses, dug truffles while she watched the sunset roll in. The truffles smelled woody, fresh, and clean. She felt wise when she nibbled them, almost as if she’d lived on the island for centuries.

She had thought she might live forever, cloistered from humankind. Young, tech rich, cranky, and prone to fits of passionate revenge, solitude suited her until she longed for company. Her TikTok video advertising island paradise dream homes went viral. Ulysses, in a straw hat, held an open house sign.

To Hell and Gone, Revised

Graduation night, Persephone and her girl band rocked out in the high school cafeteria. Glittery sequins covered her jacket like chain mail. She was young, it was spring, life was good.

But spring turned to winter when Persephone quenched her thirst with a fruity punch at intermission. Her head spinning, she stepped outside. That hellhound from the shooting range who was always trying to get into her pants appeared.

Blame it on the punch; she followed him. Her mother, a social influencer, raised the alarm. Millions searched. The gods got involved. When the two returned, her mother gave him hell.

(Apologies, it’s been hard to keep up this week.)

April Fool

He was up for mischief. A pint up. He twigged a flash of green, nothing but a fairy glimmer out from the woods at break of dawn. Then again, he reckoned ‘twas twilight. That might serve the little people better, twilight when shadows run deep, twilight when souls slip between worlds and mischief is abroad.

That second pint of ale overcome him. He could do anything now. Lift the world on his shoulders and take it for a ride. Find his true love. She’d encouraged him, green eyes, there on the barstool. But was it real, or was it blarney?

Wishing Spring

Photo by Aleksandar Pasaric on Pexels.com


Until spring comes, Persephone will fill the Styx with tears of longing for her mother.
Caught in the prison of Hades’s grasping power, she mourns.
Caught in the devil of the season, we wish it done.

We cry for hope.
Hope that the dark sky opens. That sunlight shines on puddles and nourishes green shoots of grass. 
Grass like flying carpets.
Take us from this dark country, soar high on a hope and a prayer.

A hope that Persephone and Demeter will be united
in love of Mother Earth. Their garden will bloom again. 
A prayer for spring. For redemption.

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