Fairy of the Stream

©Kay Stephens

Now, I know I've been swept. I shouldn't have been out on a May Eve. If you'll recall my earlier tale of finding myself at a fort at dawn, and meeting the Sentinel, who promised to let me go back home, you'll know now, that I'm still wandering. I've been carried away. The Good People have no time down here (and I'm not sure whether I'm up or down, this place is like a dream I can't wake from). But sure enough, I followed the Sentinel's instructions down a steep rampart in a river gorge and came across another tiny woman at the base of a small waterfall. I asked her "Who are you?"

©Kay Stephens

"I am one of three of my troop who watch the stream," she answered plainly with no telling fear of me. As a reporter in my real (my former?) life, I ask questions. The first one naturally that came to me was: "But why?"
"By your presence," she answered, "'Tis to be merriment tonight and I am catching a fish. Go along now, you will only get in my way." And naturally, I went, not liking our abrupt exchange, but not wishing to irk her further. First, I looked downstream.

©Kay Stephens

There was another one, hidden in the mossy rocks. But I did not go to meet her and I nodded my goodbye to the Fairy of the Stream and began climbing up the slippery embankment littered with duff. I was so lost, but there is no way out of this world, so along I went.

Story to be continued.