Another Fairy Farts Excerpt (yes, I’m having a lot of fun writing this):
We had no trouble finding the shop. I walked in, but Gemma had to stoop to get through the door. I was hit with a mixture of spicy smells as I took in the odd array of items occupying the wooden shelves on each wall. A blonde elf with straight hair and freckles on her nose was behind the counter, putting a label on a bottle with a purple-colored liquid inside. She looked up and went slack-jawed, dropping the bottle which shattered spilling the contents all over the countertop. A whole section of the counter disappeared before my eyes as if some giant had taken a bite out of it.
“Oh, fuzzballs!” She pulled out a rag which she rubbed on the now invisible counter. The rag disappeared along with two fingers.
She groaned and threw the rag down with an audible but invisible splat. Stepping around the counter she held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Helena. How can I help you?”
She was more than a foot shorter than me and dressed in a simple green and red dress with pointy shoulder pads. I peered down at the half a hand she offered.
She pasted a nervous grin on her face that was all teeth as she hid her hands behind her back. “Sorry,” she said quickly.
The dragon’s eyes lit up. “Ooooo. The rarest of morsels. Can I eat an arm or a leg? I hear you taste delicious.”
“Told ya,” Gemma whispered in my ear from behind me.
“Not now,” I whispered back.
“As interesting as having you eat me sounds,” I said to the dragon, “I’ll pass for now.” I shook my head to clear it. The longer I talked to the dragon, the more something seemed off, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.
The dragon’s whole demeanor changed. In an instant her posture became like a tiger ready to pounce and she narrowed her eyes at me. “No? No?! No one says no to me. Let the uppity elf send another emissary. I’ll eat you as a down payment.”
We found a nearby creek, but with all the blood my new shirt had soaked up and subsequently had dried into it, I was forced to admit that it was a lost cause. Rather than clean it, I buried it and suffered the eye rolls and head shakes as I gave my poor shirt a eulogy.
“I feel like we barely knew each other,” which was true since I’d bought the shirt this morning, “but I watched you grow and change… color during our brief friendship. You always had my back and shared in my pain, and, dear shirt, I’ll never forget that. You became part of the very fabric of my life. From the earth you grew, were woven into life, and we now return you to the soil from whence you came. So, it is with deepest regret that I lay you to rest in this grave. The shallow depth in which in no way relates to the depth of gratitude for your many minutes of service.”