Thursday, April 4, 2019


THE FAIRIES WERE ON Jake like bees on a honey comb. He screamed and writhed as they covered him, stabbing with their tiny swords.

I pulled both pistols and flipped them. I held them by the barrels and, using them as clubs, beat the winged creatures from off the boy. Or at least I tried. For every one I beat back, two more would take their place. Despite their resilience, however, they seemed to take issue with the way I was treating their kin, because soon I too was surrounded.

It was like being inside a tornado made of razor blades, and nothing I did had any effect. I swung the pistols feeling more than a little satisfaction each time they connected with one of the small figures. But in the end it didn’t matter what I did. The swarm was just too much. I kicked and clubbed and cursed, all to the sound of Tumbling Tumbleweeds.

But then, as suddenly as it had begun, the song stopped, cut short as it was replaying for the second time. And with that, Jake and I were alone.

The abrupt silence, not to sound like a cliché, was deafening. To go from the roaring buzz of a few hundred enraged fairies, the warbling howls of old cowboys, and the high pitched screams of a terrified child, to nothing but the faint hum of the cars out on the highway off in the distance could just plain rattle most folks.

I ain’t most folks.

I holstered the pistols and bent to check on Jake who had gone silent. He was alive, and though the coat I’d thrown over him was in tatters, the boy himself was unscathed.

“They’re gone,” I said, placing a comforting hand on his back.

“Gone?” His voice held on to a slight tremor, though I could see that he was trying to act tough.

“Nary a fairy in sight,” I said, which caused him to giggle a bit.

ContinueContinue reading ... reading...

No comments:

Post a Comment