A Game of Words

The man was slinking through a meadow, body doubled over well beyond the height of the tall grass. Insects buzzed all around him, but his ear was tuned to a different sound. Amid the thrum of flies came the clear, sweet sound of bells, tinkling ever so faintly.

He continued to weave across the field, following the distant ringing. As it grew louder, he heard tiny gasps of desperation. Finally, he found her; a tiny wood fairy, trapped under one of the very logs she adored. At the sight of a human, the dainty sprite trembled and attempted to curl up under the life-threatening but protective object.

"Don't be afraid, little fairy. I know what you are, and I have seen your kind many times before. Would you like me to help you?"

The small woman seemed hesitant, but clearly she was in need of assistance. Her frail head bobbed up at the man in a pleading gesture.

"Well, all right. What is it you'd like me to do?"

The fairy paused, wondering if the old man were absent-minded and completely unaware that she was trapped. In a wispy, flute-like voice, she chimed, "I want you to get me out from under this log."

The man knelt down, his eyes running over the surface of the wood. "You wish to be free of your physical burden?"


The sprite stopped herself again, but slowly nodded. "Yes, I wish to no longer be trapped."

The old man smiled and touched a fingertip to her forehead. Slowly, her body disintegrated and fell into the sack he held out as no more than tiny flecks of golden glitter. "My pleasure to assist you."

Lola and the Doll

Golden glitter rained down on the fragile doll, caught in the twists and flares of her spiky red hair. Sliding across her tan arms, some came to rest in the ridges of her gauzy orange dress. Two flashy yellow eyes were deftly painted onto her giddy face, and a small, gleaming ruby was carefully lodged over her heart.

The tired old man wiped his brow and set down his tools. Looking over his creation, he could see nothing wrong. The doll's thin limbs were posed as if mid-leap, graceful and dangerous. Satisfied, he lifted the delicate figure and set her back on the shelf. As he did so, he let out a long sigh.

At the sound, a small child came scurrying into the room, her wild brown curls bouncing behind her like an ocean wave of coffee. Peeking up at the desk from tip-toe, she marveled at the completed addition to her grandfather's collection.

"Papi, what is that one?"

The old man lifted her onto his stool and pointed gently. "That's a fire sprite. They're very beautiful creatures, but they only hurt people."

The girl's large green eyes remained fixed on the new toy. "Why would she hurt people? She looks really happy."

"Fire sprites live only in flame. They will burn through anything and everything without even noticing."

"Can I play with her?"

The grandfather looked over the girls rapt features, mild concern creasing his aged face. "Perhaps when you're older." It was the answer he knew she hated most and heard most often. "Time for bed, lovely. Up we go."

Swiftly, the girl was lifted from her seat and tucked into the smaller bed in the corner of the room. Nestled in with her teddy bear, the old man kissed her on the forehead, pretending not to see her pout. "Sweet dreams, child."

Within minutes, the grandfather was fast asleep and snoring in his own bed across from the workbench. In practiced silence, the girl slid out from under her covers and climbed slowly back up onto the stool. Scowling at the gleeful doll, she pulled her from the shelf, glitter scattering everywhere. A few flecks drifted towards the nearby candle, bursting into magnificent flame upon contact with the burning wick.

Surprised, the little girl stared at the candle for a moment. Slowly looking back to the doll, she was met with the strangely blissful features that seemed almost to beckon for the candle's warmth. Her tiny brow furrowing, the girl carried the doll over to the tiny fire, and as the tip of her dress caught the flame, her form flickered into life.

Stretching with joy, the sprite eyed the little girl. "Thank you for saving me from my prison."

The little girl smiled widely. "You really are real. Will you play a game with me?"

The sprite grinned back. "I'm afraid I don't play well with others. But I like to dance...would you care to watch?" The girl nodded enthusiastically, and stood entranced as the sprite began to twirl on the desk. It was only as she noticed the burning hole below the sprite that she began to show concern.

"Stop it. You're ruining Papi's workbench."

The sprite stopped twirling and squinted narrowly at the child. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I've been a terrible guest. Allow me to take my leave." She lunged onto the child's head, setting her brown locks ablaze, and crashed through the window. At the sound, Papi awoke and scurried over to his granddaughter. He swiftly doused the flames on her head, but most of her hair had already disintegrated. As the child looked up, her crying eyes shined a burnt yellow where emerald had dwelt only moments before.

Fire and Water

A ribbon of flame and cinders leaping from her fingertips and toes, the fire sprite danced through the sky. Touching down on the lush green grass of spring, she shot up into the air again like a firework, leaving behind her a growing ring of flickering orange and brown. Bounding along in blissful ignorance, her burning trail of disorder grew across meadows and valleys, over mountains and through glens. Ripples of fire spread and rose, an accidental inferno made from careless celebration.

Swinging around sapling trunks like dancing poles, the sprite move through the wilderness with surprising speed. As her joy escalated, she began to propel forward even faster. Barely able to contain herself, crackling giggles burst forth with her popping tap dance of destruction. Her giggles swelled to a hysterical cackle, roaring with strength.

Suddenly, the sprite stopped mid-step. Before her, a towering tree giant had halted in his daily trek through the forest. A bucket of water fell from his stony fist, the other hand still poised with dew-soaked fingertips to nourish the young trees. Unmoved by the tongues of flame that began to lick at his feet, he surveyed the devastation. Heartbroken beyond words, a tear fell from his cheek, sizzling in the fire. As it evaporated, the small fire sprite began to fall apart and drift away on the wind.

Accountability is an inevitable part of every world.

Tree Man

The monster lurched, his feet compacting the earth several inches with each gargantuan step. Limbs made of rock and bark pushed through the undergrowth of the dying forest like a hand sweeping away a cobweb. His arms were gently lifted out to each tree he passed, the dew sprinkled on his face masking him in starry grief.

Finally, he reached the spring; it glittered with eternal hope in the center of a lush green meadow. Unable to help himself, he rushed forward and fell to his knees before it, trampling the tall grass in his fervor. Laying his hands on the ground and muttering desperate, incomprehensible words, he shook his head and wept openly. After only a moment, the spring began to glow and shimmer.

Out of the bubbling water leapt a tiny green fairy. Her wings were like leaves, her hair a ferny mass. Giggling as she reached a twiggy arm towards him, she picked up one small dewdrop from his cheek. Blowing it into the wind, a chorus of joyful voices chimed up out of nowhere, singing a heavenly lullaby to the forest.

“You want your home to grow anew?”

The tree giant nodded his head vigorously, black eyes sparkling.

“I cannot raise what is dead. But I can grow new life over it. Things are going to change. Embrace it and be grateful that no new life has grown over you yet.”