"mommy, mommy - look I pressed my first flower fairy today" she said, holding her album up to proudly show her mother.
"That's nice dear" came in a monotone voice, the result of yet another night spent banging the pool boy in the cabanna, while dear poppa was fucking the gardener in the tool shed.
"keep it away from your brother please. If he sees that it will popped into his blender - and then he will be chasing the dragon with another freakin faery"
"yes momma" came with a note of disappointment in her voice. She wandered outside in search of more tinkerbells to terrorize - and was promptly trampled by a unicorn being chased by a dragon with a woodie.
Frill tripped over a crack in the pavement and sent her dayplanner skidding across the brick courtyard. Immediately, men in suits, a little boy and a skater bent to pick it up. Some fell into each other, which sent the rest of the men into a scrum, ready to fulfill a task nobody asked for. Frill wasn't even wearing her sexy clothes, but this was the way it was. Men did things for her. Even when she was eight, when it first started happening, she wasn't impressed. She had spilled pancake batter on Father's day, and her father, Dan, rose out of bed and cleaned it for her before returning to bed. She didn't even ask.
A short man with a curly fringe of dark hair rose from the pack of men with the dayplanner in hand, the front corner bent. "Here you go miss," he said, and smiled a row of bad teeth. He fixed his tie, waiting for a sign. "Thank you sir, you're really helped me in my terrible crises," Frill said. The men rose from the dog pile, a few of them shaking hands, making introductions.
Matt B. Copyright, 2004.