Thursday, December 3, 2015

The Fairy Godperson

This is a flash fiction story I wrote years ago. It got published in a literary magazine. (love to say that, so yes, it's copyrighted.) I hope you enjoy the story. It's not great literary genius at work, but it's fun. 


Twilight came and Miranda looked out her window hoping that Gregory would come over.  She realized, that she was sitting there for nothing. He wouldn’t come. That last fight had been a bad one, and, for once, she hadn’t backed down.

It was so damned hot!  The fan blew nothing but hot air at her.  She watched her neighbors coming in and out of her apartment building.  They all looked like refugees from a sauna camp.

What she needed was a fairy godmother, just like the one in Cinderella.  Someone who would dress her in a fancy ball gown and send her to her Prince Charming in a coach with four white horses.  Even the horses would melt in this weather, she thought miserably.  She looked down at her white tank top and realized it was soaked through.  She dozed off.

“Wake up, Miranda!” 


“Wake up, Miranda.  You called for your Fairy God person, and here I am.”  The figure stood in front of her. . . . a very real Fairy Godmother in modern dress.  She wore Calvin Kleins and a blue and white tee shirt which read “Fairy God person” in front. Miranda stared.  She blinked and stared again, hoping the apparition would go away.  It didn’t.

“You like it?  I got it last Christmas from the Vice-President of Fairies.”

“Um. . . .” Miranda couldn’t seem to adjust to this new development.

“Boy, you’re a chatty little thing, aren’t you?  No wonder your boy friend dumped you.”

“He didn’t!” Protested Miranda.  “We just had a fight.”

“Yes dear, I know.  Relationships are give and take.  You didn’t want to give and all he wanted to do was take, right?”

“Uh, something like that,” Miranda replied.

“Do you love him?  I don’t mean to pry, or anything.”

“I hate him!”

“That’s not what I asked you.  Do you love him?”

“Oh all right, I do.”

Miranda thought the woman looked a little like Woopie Goldberg. 

“So what are you going to do to me?  Dress me up and send me to the ball?”

“No, no, no!  That’s way too old fashioned.  There’s no ball anyhow.  I happen to know for a fact that your young man is, at this very minute, home all alone brooding about your fight.  He is. . . . very upset!”

“Good!  Let him be upset. It was his fault.”

“Now dear, that’s not a good attitude.  He’s thinking right now about calling your very best friend, what’s her name?  Oh Cynthia. . . .and asking her out.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“Oh wouldn’t he?  And wouldn’t she?  Who do you think talked him out of asking you to marry him in the first place?”

“She didn’t!”

“Yes!  My dear, it doesn’t make any sense to stew.  We’re going to have some fun with your friend Gregory.  We’re. . . you’re going to get into his mind.”

“I’m going to what? How?”

“I can do anything, remember?  I’m your Fairy God person.”  She said it was such assurance and flair that Miranda was ready for anything, especially, if it had to do with Gregory.

“Abra-ka-dabrah. .  . . bibity bobbity BOO!” Said the Godmother with pride.

“Isn’t that kind of fairy taleish?”  Asked Miranda.

“Well, yes, and, it isn’t really necessary.  But, it’s a great crowd pleaser.”  Her hand slid down her wand.  “It’s really too sticky for this anyway. But the heat is great for my kind of magic.”

“And, what kind of magic is that?”

“You’ll see.”

The next thing Miranda knew, she was tucked neatly beside her Fairy God person and they were flying through the air. She kept looking at the people below expecting someone to point up at her. No one noticed.

“No, dear,” said the God person, reading her thoughts.  “They can’t see us.  We’re invisible.”

“We’re what?”

It wasn’t hard to find Gregory’s apartment.  He lived on the top floor of a high rise building in the heart of the city.  They flew through a closed window.  Gregory was sitting alone, his phone in his lap.  The TV was on, but he wasn’t watching it.  He was brooding.

“Damn it!  Women!  What a crock! She wants to get married! I don’t want to get married.  I don’t need to get married.  I’m fine just the way I am.”  He got up and flung the phone down on his beige carpet.  He thought better of it and picked it up again.

“I’ll call Cynthia.  It would serve her right.”  He picked up the phone to dial and then slammed it down again.  “Why can’t she just come and live with me?”

“Because, you stupid idiot, we’ve been going together for three years!  We don’t need to live together!”  Miranda sputtered out the words with vehemence.

“Miranda, dear, he can’t hear you, that way.  You need to whisper.  Like this.”   The Godmother went over to Gregory and whispered in his ear.  “Hello dear. Why don’t you turn the TV off?”  Gregory looked puzzled.

“I can’t hear myself think with this stupid TV on.”  He turned it off.

“Dear,  it’s your turn.”

Miranda, wary, walked over to Gregory. 

“Sit down, honey,” she said softly.  “Now, dear, we’ve been going together for three happy years.  I do want to get married and I want to marry you.  And, if you think about it, I think you want to marry me, too.  I want you to be the father of my children and that’s that. I love you. Call Cynthia and you’re dead meat!” 

Gregory shook his head and rubbed his ears.  Miranda could tell that the ideas were having a chilling effect on the love of her life.

“Okay. Time for us to go. I’ve got to get back for the Fairy God person meeting tonight.

Miranda sat back in her hot little apartment waiting for the phone to ring.  She didn’t have long to wait. 



“Look honey. I’ve been such a jerk. Why don’t we just get married and forget everything else?”

 The God person enjoyed the wedding.  Cynthia didn’t.


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