HIP Short Story
Night of the Pixie Moon
By Jemia De Blondeville
i decided some deforestation was urgently needed, during the period of this Super Moon. and set about cutting through the wiry growth, and bramble, using my hand held shearing device. but i stopped suddenly, upon hearing what i thought were cries of despair, and anguish, and glancing downwards, i espied a small gathering of pixies. who had set up their ramshackle abode, in their tiny little Dingly Dell located in my lady garden.
upon examination, with use of a magnifying glass, i saw that they had also created a well, with a small bucket hanging from a matchstick, and piece of hair, looking like it was about to be lowered into the Abyss. as one can imagine, i was slightly taken aback, and aghast by this, and tried to serve them an order of immediate eviction. but they claimed they had rights too, and pleaded towards my kind nature, and humanity, to give them time to relocate.
i felt quite humbled and ashamed at my harsh reaction, and realised i had acted in haste, due largely to finding pixies inhabiting, and cohabiting a part of my anatomy. and was quite impressed how well they’d improvised, and had survived, avoiding drowning during the ‘rainy season!’ anyway, the upshot of it is that they have promised to teach me to play the Lyre Harp i purchased last month (or was it the month before?). so tonight, we are to gather together (no social distancing needed for pixies – just as well really!) and after i’ve issued them with some ribbons and silk to replace their somewhat bedraggled dresswear, we shall all quaff vast quantities of Mead. however, i am a little concerned at the thought of drunken Pixies running amok in my lady garden! but we only live once…
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