On Hallow’s Eve

Rain-dappled moonlight pierced the clouds on a wet Halloween night. It cast a silo of light, illuminating a broom abandoned in a muddy field. The broom danced alone to silent music; a step, a dip, a leap. It wished for company. A witch materialized from thin air.

“I’ve come through the veil to find my sister,” she said.

The broom curtseyed, in the stiff way that brooms do. “Climb on.”

The broom got cozy under the witch’s woolen cloak, and with a few mumbled spells, the witch searched the Earth on the one night when living and dead mingle together.

A Mother Knows

A beloved king lived in a modest bungalow on the edge of the forest. His wife was the kindest and most beautiful of all women. Together they ruled the kingdom of Thryngia in peace and prosperity. If only they had a child to succeed them.

A charlatan heard of their plight. He found his way into their confidence and promised to bring to life the stillborn child they had buried scarcely weeks before. The charlatan’s cousin, a witch, transformed him into an infant and raised him from the child’s grave. The queen was not fooled. A mother knows her child.

Gaslighting with the Little People

The sly leprechaun winked for the camera. ”Roll it.”
Invisible fairies heckled the TACO king on the golf green. “Heh, heh, ho, ho, fascism has got to go.” Don-Don landed in a sand trap. Brazen, he carried the ball to the cup. Now he was trapped.

Leprechaun Productions scored better ratings than the three hour snoozefest televised from a cabinet meeting or the new show, Oval Office Apprentice with TACO king scowling at Zelensky. Nothing was as popular as the grifter-in-chief on the 18th hole pleading with a fire-breathing dragon.

Don-Don abdicated his throne. The dragon hologram disappeared. The leprechaun winked.

Floating Island

The princess abided hiding away on an island. She kept hope alive for her people while her brother made his quest to free the kingdom from an evil wizard. Summer nights, crickets sang merrily and in the winter, deer fed on the hay she spread near her small cottage.

A loyal staff cared for the grounds and animals. They produced most things the household needed. The rest was magically delivered by an unmanned boat.

After he defeated the evil wizard, her brother arrived one moonlit night. They hugged, returned home to great acclaim , and the kingdom prospered under their rule.

Feather, Flute, Cloak

(Continued from last week)

The Prince picked up the flute and played. Within minutes, a bird so large it blocked the sun landed in the field where the Prince stood. It said, “Put on the cloak and get on my back.” Invisible, the Prince flew to a drear castle where the bird left him to his fate.

He fingered the feather and the gate opened. An evil wizard greeted him. “Come to save your kingdom? First save yourself.” The feather became a sword. The prince flew at the wizard. His cloak protected him. The wizard’s anguished cry reversed the curse and freed the kingdom.

(Last installment next week)

A Hidden Prince

As long as the children were hidden, there was hope. A tiny woman, nursemaid to the princess, spirited the girl away when an evil wizard tricked his way into the palace and cast a spell on the land.

The nursemaid, a witch, had warned the queen. At her behest, the prince was sent to live in a neighboring kingdom. He grew up to be that mage king’s most valuable assistant. When the time came for him to find his sister and break the spell, the kindly king produced three magical items: a feather, a flute, and a cloak.

(To be continued)

Mirror, Mirror

I expect he’s as bad as she was. They’re all the same. “Mirror, mirror.” They don’t ask my name. If they do, they never remember. Damn, here he comes. The fairest of them all. Gold skin, gold hair, gold picture frames. More like the fakest of them all.

The paunch is real. It’s the size of New Jersey.

Queen Evil knew the truth. She was out for revenge as soon as she saw the real beauty standing behind her. I’ll tell him what he wants to hear. Or I’ll go so dark even his sparkly gold won’t bring me back.

Departed on St. Patrick’s Day.

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

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.

Wishes Come True

Jack spent the change from his mother’s lottery ticket on a pen. The hawker wore tattered clothes, even more tattered than Jack’s. Maybe the boy felt sorry for the man. These magic markers hadn’t brought him luck.

“Write your wish on a piece of golden paper tonight when the moon is bright. Bury the paper under an oak tree and say a prayer.”

Jack thanked the man. He took the lottery ticket and the pen home to his mother.

“You spent my change for that.” Still, she gave him paper. It was barely in the ground; she shouted, “We won!”

How to Turn a Gremlin

“It’s a wonder I don’t do more damage. I bunk in the wheel well of an airplane and live on leftover military meals.” Unrepentant, the gremlin had been caught sabotaging a bomber.

The interrogator didn’t know what to think. The gremlin was no more than three feet tall, dressed in rags from a bygone era, and furry enough that the wheel well story was credible. “Whose side are you on?”

“Are there sides?”

“There’s a war on.” The interrogator felt sorry for the stubborn creature. Would he work for the Allies? He looked so miserable. “How about some home cooking?”

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