Friday Fictioneers offering for March 26. Join the fun at http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/. I was inspired by the extra day Rochelle allowed us for this weeks Friday Fictioneers and did two–each one exactly 100 words.
Pyewacket sat beside the ancient oak. He flicked his silver wings three times and kicked a dried piece of rabbit dung with the toe of his spiderweb boot.
Afternoon dwindled to dusk. At last, Peaseblossom settled beside him with a tinkling laugh.
“You’re late,” he snapped.
“Fairies don’t understand time. Country fairies least of all.” She held a shiny treasure in her hand. “I brought you real magic from the city.”
Pyewacket took the beautiful thing from her, turning it round and round. It shimmered and fluttered on his palm.
“What does it do?”
“Anything you want. It’s named iPhone.”
“Did you defeat the entire British army, then?” I stood amidst the ancient oaks, our rendezvous.
Blood and dirt streaked his face. His shirt hung in tatters. Mud stained the green and blue of his kilt.
“Only five or six. I hadnae time for them all. I knew ye were waiting.”
“You’re bleeding.” I reached to push a blonde lock from his eyes. He caught my hand pulling me closer.
“I’m not hurt.”
“I just hope you haven’t worn yourself out.” The heat of him and the peaty smell of whisky washed over me.
“Oh, I’ll last a wee bit.”