My Broken Fairies

Introduction: I love fairy tales. However, what I love even more is writers who break fairy tales, ripping up the rules to mess with your expectation. This is my attempt to do exactly that, inspired by today’s prompt: fairy. I hope you enjoy it.

There are fairies in my garden. They are small things, who appear to made out of pure light and whose little wings beat away like a hummingbird as they float among the flowers against the far wall. Sometimes I go down to them, and they love to tell me tales of the world they come from. They’re full of stories about unicorns and other magical beings. Then, at night they sneak out of hiding to dance, singing songs and giggling with glee. It all sounds rather magical, doesn’t it? Like a fairy tale come to life.

Except, I think the fairies at the bottom of my garden are broken because they don’t act like normal fairies. Sure, they have their tales, and they love to tell them, but the animals in them are not the ones that I want to hear about. Their unicorns aren’t proud and beautiful, but arrogant and cruel. They stomp around and complain about things being better in their day, and that magic in 2019 is not like magic in 821. They moan that when they were foals there was real beauty in the world, pixies were always polite and there weren’t as many goblins in the streets.

Then there’s the singing. You’d think a fairy’s voice would be sweet and gentle, that they would sing the most beautiful lullabies to send me off to sleep. Not my fairies, though. My fairies listen to death metal and spent their nights grunting and screeching. I don’t know where they heard it first, but they say it’s much better than the crap they get back home and pass the nights roaring into the sky while throwing the devil’s horns above their heads. It doesn’t help me sleep, let me tell you that.

It’s also influenced their dancing. The fairies that I’ve always pictured do ballet. They would gracefully flit through the air, enchanting the world by making it look easy. Have you ever tried to do ballet to death metal? It doesn’t work. No, these fairies mosh, drinking beer and throwing the cans at each other, before charging around in circle pits and ramming into each other in walls of death. The fairies in my garden have no interest in the intricate, preferring to windmill their arms as they smash through the flowers. Eventually, they fall over drunk, and that’s when the giggling starts. Maniacal and crazy, as they howl at the moon.

So yea, I have some fairies at the bottom of my garden, and quite frankly I’d like rid of them if that’s possible. If you know someone, please send them my way. I’ll pay. I’ll pay well. Anything you need, as long as you get rid of the little shits.

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