The Fairy With The Turquoise Hair
Our father and I live in a house full of goggles. Goggles on the couch, the counter, the floor, the chair, goggles on the stairs. Our father purchases a new pair every week. Some are heat seeking. All are night vision. In his spare time he tinkers with magnets and forked willow branches. At night he takes these and walks along the cross-roads. He always finds water, he never finds the dead.
On the existence of Dreamed things after the Dreamer is deceased there is little scholastic work. There are reported cases of Dreamed jewelry lasting upwards to a hundred years after the Dreamer has passed, but that the thing has ceased to exist or that it has been lost to time is indeterminable. In Maine there is a woman with turquoise hair. The locals claim that she has lived in the same house for at least 60 years and has not aged a day over 35. She is a Living Dream.
“Do the hands look familiar to you?”
“It is the same hand every night. So it is the same hand just…repeated.”
“Do you recognize the hand?”
“Because I do.”
I left the table and looked out the window. It is spring and some of the hands are finally rotting. Butterflies are attracted by the smell.
Mitchell King is a runaway witch living in Kansas City. Someday he hopes to colonize the moon.