Eye of the Beholder

This is my response to the six sentence word prompt of MUNDANE, by girlontheedge. We have returned to Faerie this week, where the fickle nature of the Fae is shown, when they choose to give Casey exactly what she wants. Poor Casey.

When Casey stepped into the ring of mushrooms and demanded visitations, she crossed into another world where she had experienced wonders beyond compare; she seen the greenest of all grasses, waterfalls that ran in rainbows, and flowers so beautiful that there were not words to describe them.

When she returned, finding only seconds had passed, she had believed that she had been given the gift she had so rightly deserved. Her art went from average, to extraordinary, as buyers lined up for a chance to bid on her glimpses into the strange new world she nonsensically called “Otherland”. They called her a visionary, and her contemporaries wondered how she could so easily let go of such extraordinary work, as it was said she didn’t keep a single one for herself.

No one saw the toll it was taking, as she frantically filled canvas after canvas, trying to recreate something that hovered just out of reach at the very edges of her memories. She mixed palate after palate, but could never quite recreate the colors she had seen, this world lacking the pigmentation required, and each time she finished and saw the pale imitation she had created, she wanted it out of her sight immediately, it’s very presence mocking her in her failure.

What at first had seemed a gift, now seemed a curse, torturing her for her arrogance, leaving her longing for a place she could not return to, and now unable to see anything but dull lifelessness in the mundane world that surrounded her.

You Can’t Go Home Again Part 4 – Conclusion

If you are confused, where part 3 is, please go back and check my Sunday late posting. This is a six sentence story concluding my Faerie stories You Can’t Go Home Again. It also managed to get the word dotage in, which has been stuck in my head for 3 months.

It took years, but Grace eventually learned to be happy in this new time, with a small job, then a GED, and then in the strangest of twists, the written word. Though she never wrote with the speed and fluidity expected of her, she spent her spare hours writing of the Fae, singing their praises to be more honest, and when her social worker found one of her pieces, things exploded from there.

Her work was called spectacularly detailed, marvelously realistic, and she could never explain how she came up with it, or the darkness she had left out. Soon she was old, three score and 5 years had passed, and she was more of this time than she was of another, but her sister still weighed heavily on her mind.

She realized in her dotage that this was her punishment, for rejecting the hospitality offered to her, and she could only hope that the fair folk would accept her attempt at redemption, as she walked into the forest, to a place she hadn’t seen in so very long.

She stepped into the circle, a crone bearing books, and out of it a starving maiden, joyous, and so Grace returned to her sister, knowing that their were far worse things that could happen than going hungry.

You Can’t Go Home Again Part 3

In a truly spectacular failure of the week, I wrote this last Sunday and never posted it. I would just not post it at all, but I am writing part 4, the conclusion to this for this weeks challenge, and you are going to be a little confused if you didn’t read part 3. Oops.

She knew that she had been lucky to be found by Delores, who took her in, fostered her, and took her to her many medical appointments for her “head injury”.

She knew not to speak of the fair folk, and without an explanation of how she came by her dress, or manner of speech, there was no way for her to refute the claim of injury.  The adults often spoke in hushed voices of something they called a cult when she didn’t know something she should, like what electricity was, or what a car was, or how to write with the proficiency of a trained scribe.

She didn’t like this strange new world, where everything moved so fast, yet so slow at the same time, and where she was expected to have the confidence of an elder, while not being trusted to so much as feed herself.   She had 14 years to her name, and if it weren’t for her father’s passing, she would have been wed with a babe of her own by now, but when she told that to Delores it only made the woman look sad, then treat her more like a child.

She was given pills to make her happy, but the only made it all fuzzy, as she mourned a life long gone, a family long dead, and the feeling of belonging she had once had.

You Can’t Go Home Again Part 2

Ok, go

This is based on the six sentence story prompt “wear” from girlontheedge, and it a continuation of last weeks story, where a desperate girl passed into Faerie, and feasted upon the offered food. This week, we get to see what becomes of her as she realizes the truth of her actions. It could probably by read alone, but I recommend reading “You Can’t Go Home Again” first.

It was only when she was full that the weight of her actions settled upon her, and the regret she felt made the food feel like lead in her stomach, as without her, her sister would soon starve, alone on the poor side of town.

Time melted away as she waited to see another, to explain her plight, ask for assistance, and when she had finally given up, pleading her case into the emptiness of the house, it seemed that her prayers were answered. She knew somehow, as the wall swung open, that should she make the choice the step through it, here and now, she would never be able to return again, and the memory freezing on an empty stomach made her pause only a moment before she pressed on.

In minutes she was at the mushroom ring, the world growing dimmer as she stepped through it, and she ran towards town, knowing that she had made it back to her own realm, one of those touched by the Fae and lucky enough to live to tell the tale, or so she thought.

She was stopped cold when she arrived in town, it was as strange as it was familiar, the roads that were in the same spots were now covered with some strange dark rock, occupied not by horses and carriages, but by screaming metal beasts that moved far too fast, by buildings that no longer bore any resemblance to those she knew except for the chapel. The people, so many of them, all seemed to wear strange garments, giving her queer looks as they passed, and as she stood before giant building where her home should been, she began to weep, as she now knew the truth of what she had been told about eating the food of faerie, she could never go home again.