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.
THE FAIRY GOD
PERSON
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!”
“Huh?”
“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.
“Miranda?”
“Gregory?”
“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.
THE END
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