Dark Fairy Queen Midsummer Night’s Dream

Evidence of Things Not Seen

category: Myths

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“It won’t work, you know.” Barry leaned back against the tree and grinned. Not for the first time, Lisa cursed the fates which decreed that they should share genetic material. In the late-evening twilight, his supercilious face was ripe for punching, although she refrained. He wasn’t going to ruin her fun, not on this night.

What are you talking about, she didn’t say, because he continued on without her. She didn’t really need to be there for most of their conversations.

“And it’s the equinox that the myths talk about, not the solstice. Though an egg won’t stand on its end, no matter what day it is.” His fingers, always busy, created grooves in the dirt, exposing the thick lines of a tree root. If he sat there long enough, he’d excavate the whole thing, just because he could.

Lisa’s hands were busy, too, although not aimlessly. It was hard to find all of the leaves she needed this time of year, especially since they had to be willingly shed, but the trees knew their roles, and even the stubborn hawthorn did its part.

When the leaves were arranged just so, she opened her bag and removed the egg. It thrummed in her hands, heavy for its size, and was warm to the touch. She felt the passage of a small rock as it whizzed by her ear, and she turned back to Barry, sticking her tongue out at him. The next one would hit her in the back of the head, she knew, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of acting afraid.

Besides, holding the egg, she feared nothing.

As she’d predicted, the next pebbled ricocheted off her head. Then another off her neck. He’d keep doing it as long as she let him. Lisa barely cared. Barry thought he was so much smarter than everyone else, but he couldn’t even feel the presence of divinity not ten feet from where he sat.

Though slumbering, the dragonling was ready to hatch as soon as Lisa said the words. Lisa knew that if she could see inside the egg, She would be only an inch in diameter, curled at the bottom of Her oblong cradle, the last sign that it was time. Lisa placed the egg on the ground and smiled as Barry gasped in surprise as it balanced on its point. He crawled closer, trying to figure out what the trick was, just as a crack appeared at the tip. Lisa smiled. The dragonling would one day rule the world, but She was going to emerge hungry, and Barry would sustain her for days.

Flash! Friday, volume 3, week 32

“Those who are doomed”
@drmagoo
225 words
Story Elements: Theme, Setting

This was his dream.

The dead man approached the podium and looked out over the empty auditorium. He was set to speak promptly at 13 o’clock, and the nobody in the seats in front of him failed to fidget with anticipation. At the appropriate time, a light flashed, and it all began again.

This was her dream.

The dead child stood at the top of the slide and surveyed Creation. Gleaming with rust in the smog, her path curved and twisted out of sight. Insubstantial as hope, the rust flaked away until Creation gave out. As she fell, a light flashed. And it all began again.

This was his job.

In front of him was a dial. There were no markings on it, and it felt awkward in his hand. When the light flashed, he turned it the correct amount in the correct direction. Sometimes it turned easily, sometimes not. Sometimes, he turned it the wrong way, and then he was killed. The next morning, a light flashed, and it all began again.

This was her home.

At the end of the day, she stood in the appropriate spot to be lowered into her sphere. Sometimes she knew which way was down. Today she had killed a man sitting at a dial. Tomorrow, no one would remember. The light flashed, and it all began again.