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"Faery Sidhe"
By: SarahLeeAnn
Site: I want to whisper in your ear

Wisteria blossoms hung from the oak like grapes, and she
watched the bees dance in the violet.  This high up, she
could see over the roof of her house, and the wind swayed
the tree.  She never wanted to come down, never wanted to
leave the rich sweetness of the flowers, or the gentle
movement of the tree, or the sun filtering down like warm
rain.  Her husband stood on the balcony, smoking a
cigarette.  He looks like a wild man, she thought, with all
that hair.  She smiled, then began to sing, 
"Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone..."  
He looked up and met her eyes. 
"You look like an elf, my dear. No, a faery," he called,
"I love you." 
Sarah sighed in mock exasperation, 
"That, angel, is because I am a faery." 
She paused, "I love you, too." 
"Come down.  I have something to show you." 
"But I don't want to come down. Why don't you come up?"
"Because I can't climb trees like you do. I'll meet you
She watched him disappear into the house and reappear in
the yard.  He picked his way carefully with bare feet, and
she called down teasingly, "Tenderfoot!"  
He grinned.  When he reached the tree, she began her
descent.  But the branch she stepped down on moved, and she
fell. Scrabbling, she managed to catch herself on the next
branch.  She hung by her hands, panting. 
"Honey, I think I'm stuck." 
"Oh Goddess, I thought you were going to fall." 
"I did fall.  Now I'm stuck." 
"Just let go, the ground isn't that far." 
Sarah looked down.  
"Yes, it is.  Will you help me please? I know it's too
much to ask, but please." 
"Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." 
"Just please help me down." 
He moved under her and tossed the cigarette.  
"Okay, Sarah, now drop.  I'll catch you." 
"Shit.  Okay." 
She took a breath, closed her eyes, and let go.  And never
hit the ground... Or her husband's arms.  From Brandon's
point of view, Sarah just vanished in mid-fall.  He stood
there for a long moment, with his arms still out-reached,
until he shook his head and went back inside.  In the
kitchen, he sat at the table and lit another cigarette. 
Taking a drag, he began to cry.  Suddenly, he fainted, his
head on the table, his hands hanging by his side.  The lit
cigarette dropped to the floor and began to smolder the
linoleum.  A voice, almost silent, whispered, "Go out!" 
The cigarette obediently grew cold.  Brandon slept on. The
next morning he awoke to the sound of the wind shaking the
tin roof. 
"Sarah?  Shit, babe, I had the strangest dream," he
called, "Sarah?"  
Panic spread across his face, and he rushed outside. 
No one answered him.  The wind was incredible. He went to
the oak tree, not knowing where else to go.  As he entered
its shade, the wind ceased blowing entirely.  Not finding
Sarah, he sat at the foot of the giant tree in defeat. 
From the other side, he heard soft singing.  Unreasonably
afraid, Brandon crawled around the trunk, and came face to
face with his wife.  She was dressed in a flowing gown of
violet and green,  her long hair filled with flowers and
ribbons.  As he stared open-mouthed, she smiled, "One must
please the faeries."

(c)opyright 1999 by SarahLeeAnn