My sister told me that fairies lived at the bottom of our garden in a treehouse made specially for them by the people who lived in our house before us; people who were foreigners and didn’t speak English so the fairies didn’t speak English either and didn’t understand anyone who wasn’t a fairy, so she said I wasn’t to go looking, I was only to appreciate that our garden was unique in that no other garden on the road had a fairy house.
I didn’t understand unique, but I understood secrets, with my budding wings flattened under my Aran sweater.
This piece was shortlisted in Retreat West's Monthly Micro Competition in October 2021.
No comments:
Post a Comment