It was a busy week, it being March Break and all, so I only got one of the prompts done. But it’s better than nothing, right? This little story proves that you don’t have to take these prompts too seriously. :-D
To get the story straight. Dave, we think, has become a chicken. Just the worst of luck with that guy. Tom is claiming he married the futon that’s now covered in yogurt, Carl is on the chandelier with the dog and you just walked in after getting groceries. What the heck is going on?
You set the groceries down with a sigh. “Millicent!” you call.
There’s a pink swarm of dust motes hovering in the corner and a high pitched giggle comes from the sparkling cloud.
“Millicent,” you say again, looking sternly at the pink swarm. The sparkle intensifies and two bright fuchsia eyes appear. “What have I told you?” you ask sternly.
The effervescent of the swarm tones down slightly. “No using wild magic on your friends,” a high-pitched voice replied.
“And what did you do while I was gone?”
“It was just a little magic, and it wasn’t my fault.”
You sigh. Raising any child on your own is hard, but raising a half fairy, half genie is challenging, to say the least.
The swarm drifts down to the floor in front of you and begins to coalesce. Another few seconds and a small form takes shape. The fuchsia eyes remain the same and today she’s sporting bright pink, spikey hair, a pale blue tee-shirt with the slogan “Unicorn Trainer” emblazoned across it in darker blue sequins, and jeans. As usual, her feet are bare.
You crouch down so you can look her in the eyes. “You’ve had your fun, now change them back please.”
She looks down, hands behind her back, and her glow dims a little further. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“Carl used my wand to play fetch with the dog and the dog bit it in half and it broke. That’s how they ended up on the chandelier.”
“And the rest?” you ask with the patience of a saint.
One bare toe rubbed on the carpet. “The magic kind of spilled out and went wonky.”
You sigh and straighten up again. “Okay. Give me the pieces and we’ll fix it.”
She produces the pieces from behind her back and hands them to you. You pat her on the head and take the pieces gingerly.
“All right, let’s glue this up and you can put things to right again.”
Millicent skips happily beside you as you go into the kitchen to get the super glue. At the rate she keeps breaking her wand, maybe you should be buying glue by the case.
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