Departed on St. Patrick’s Day.

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Gillie wrinkled her nose. “It’s not magic.” What she meant was, the delicious taste of spring flowers and green hills was missing from her St. Patrick’s Day oatmeal.

“It’s green,” her father said.

“Did you dye it?”

He swallowed hard. “Sorry.”

“Where’s our leprechaun friend?”

Her father produced a note from his pocket.

“I’m off to the motherland. It’s not safe here.”

“Did NICE deport him?”

“The witch hunts are over. Now they’re hunting leprechauns.”

Gillie pushed the bowl away. “They’re not nice. It’s opposites day every day.”

Her father wrapped her in a warm hug, powerless to do more.

The Perfect Pet Cow

Ellie groped for a pitcher to hold her morning milk. The pitcher felt warm. It moved and mooed when she touched it. It had the same fresh smell of country lanes that had attracted Ellie’s attention as she browsed the housewares aisle of the local thrift store. The pitcher had been only five dollars. She thought she might be asleep.

Overnight, the pitcher became a cow. She fed it salad and built a small platform with a hole in the center for the cow to stand on. She placed her tea cup under the center hole and squirted in milk.

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.)

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