A quote: “Come away, O human child: To the waters and the wild with a fairy, hand in hand, For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.” ~~ William Butler Yeats

I’ll start with a story …

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As only heir and with no pending prospects of success, going back to Ireland to run Grandah’s pub seemed doable.

Customers are cool. The oldest farts have some interesting tales, even if you need subtitles because of accents and BAC.

James is different. Comes in late a few nights a week, sits quietly, nurses a pint then leaves at closing. One night I ask, “what’s your story, Jimmy?”

“I was young and bored and said so to my dah and left to seek fame and fortune. One night, I was waylaid by highway men and left for dead.

I awoke in a fine bed, in a finer room. I wasn’t alone.

She slides out from between the sheets clothed only in long auburn hair, smiling as she crosses the room and as her hand slides across her soft white belly I know, know what’s been happening. Yet I’m bewitched. She sits at the spinning wheel, a side glance at me as I start to get up. She gasps and I see she has pricked her finger and the drop of blood … it isn’t red. “

Jimmy finishes off his drink, “I don’t know how long I was there. Time had no meaning in that bedroom. And she probably thought it a fair exchange.” He looks at me again. “Centuries ago I told that story. Told it for drink. Told it for meals.” He shrugs, “And as years passed the story has flipped to where she’s the one woken by my kiss or, more sinister, that I raped her sleeping body. No matter anymore. I just wait for her return, that she’ll take back the gift she gave me.”

He rises to leave, “be careful of what you wish for.”

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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license