19 July 2012
Mother had said, that very morning, 'Lily! Don't go outside today! I can feel it on the air! Something is going to happen!' Being the teenager I was - pixie or not - it was in my bones to rebel. So I clenched my teeth and continued outside. And now where was I? Stuck under some lump of a cat's glass. Suspended there. My wings being used to light up the surroundings. That was it. I was now the equivalent of a candle. The drought was already stifling enough. And now, stuck under the glass, I was little more than a tiny gibbering wreck of a pixie. Even my dust was malfunctioning. Grim times. I watched. Having little else to do in my tiny glass cage, I watched. The Queen's soldiers had arrived - how they planned to aid the drought-affected, I had no idea. My fists spasmed as a giant spirit bear lumbered past. Those things - spirit creatures - creeped me out. Majorly. The soldiers rushed about, one passing close enough for me to see what was clenched in her hands: a set of keys. Keys to what? A water closet? A supply store? Pondering filled my time. Hours dragged by and I continued to regret my mulish decision to defy my mother. I sighed. Being a teenager, albeit a pixie teenager - which supposedly meant I had a higher IQ (whatever) - was hard work.
The next three words: 1) bunnies 2) cello 3) blanket
Opuss Tale Part 4. • Opuss № I