Plugs

Jonathan Wood’s story “Notes on the Dissection of an Imaginary Beetle” from Electric Velocipede 15/16 is available online.

Trent Walters, poetry editor at A&A, has a chapbook, Learning the Ropes, from Morpo Press.

Luc Reid writes about the psychology of habits at The Willpower Engine. His new eBook is Bam! 172 Hellaciously Quick Stories.

Jason Fischer has a story appearing in Jack Dann’s new anthology Dreaming Again.

Changeling

by SaraG

The changeling girl held a bazooka out of the window of the house and waited for the leprechaun to try to steal her stash. Leprechauns were the only beings in magical creation too dense to understand that fairy gold wasn’t real, just glamorized bits of leaves and dust, and they spent half their time trying to steal it and then wondering why it disappeared the next day.

Last night the leprechaun had made a dash for her gold Barbie doll. Sharon bit her lip. She’d had it. It might not be a real gold gold Barbie, but it was her gold Barbie and nobody was going to take it away from her. Just let them try.

Her arms hurt from pulling back the string of the sling that she’d glamorized to look like a bazooka. She wondered if the stones would hurt more if she changed it into a missile, but realized that they probably wouldn’t. Her only hope was that the sight would scare the leprechaun off and that he wouldn’t dare come back. Keeping this farce up was too stressful and Sharon had nobody to help her.

Nobody understood her. Life was hard on a changeling fairy trying to fit in among humans. She wondered how her human mother would react if she ever found out, and the bazooka trembled in her hand.

“Mom, Dad, you guys don’t know it, but I’m adopted. Your real child is in fairyland being forced to work for their bread or something.” Didn’t sound right.

Frustration welled inside and she wanted to cry. Why me? She thought. Why my Barbie doll?

“Sharon? Come down to dinner, darling. Now.” The girl hesitated. Nobody cared about her. Why should she even bother going down to dinner? Why should she bother eating? Why not just waste away and leave a pretty corpse? She bit back her tears.

“Honey?” her mother was climbing the stairs. “Honey, I want you downstairs right now. Don’t make me come up and get you.”

The changeling dropped the bazooka, grabbed the Barbie and hid it under her clothes. Then she put on her best slouch, opened the door and went downstairs to join Humanity

2 Responses to “Changeling”

  1. Lawrence Harding Says:

    April 5th, 2007 at 1:54 pm

    So she has a gnome to go to? But the leprechan get in at any time?
    Why not tease it by putting fairy gold on speeding trains, inaccessible spots, inside bank vaults?

  2. Sara Genge Says:

    April 5th, 2007 at 2:22 pm

    I think that leprechaun might be just a tad smarter than everyone is giving him credit for. Stick around and you’ll find out.