I wanted to show her the attic. It would change everything for her. But, when I came in the middle of the night, I was not exactly welcome.

Readers, Sir J.M. Barrie got it wrong. First of all, faeries don’t make sounds like the tinkling of bells. Our launguage is made up of a series of clicks and knocks. Very few of us have mastered the human tongue.

Second, faeries’ skin is so pale and thin, it it nearly translucent, so one my see our blue blood running through our bodies. Our hair is untamed; we let it do whatever it pleases. The males of our species have long, white beards from the time of birth, and the females’ nails are razor sharp.

Frankly, we are rather frightening to the unexpecting humans.

I flew to her bed, making as little noise as possible. Judith shieked at the sight of me, and threw me to the wall. My beard wrapped around me. “Stop it.” I reprimanded her with much difficulty. Her father walked in the room.
“Sorry. It was a bug.” She lied. I smiled from behind the door.