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A Queen Retires

 The old queen retired. It wasn't the done thing. But it was long past time. She had paid her dues.

    Except, had she?

    She had eaten well, slept well (at least, she had had a bed to sleep in), been clothed...

    She had worked. Oh, yes, she had worked. And now she was tired. 

    She was retired for three months before she had begun to think again. Perhaps she had not paid any dues, not really. Perhaps no one ever did. There was, of course, no going back. But there had to be something.

    She set out from her smaller quarters, down to the witch's cottage just where the outskirts of the city met the forest. There, she met the witch, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.

    In the end, the work felt the same. But she slept much better. 

To the Woods

 There was once a woman who didn't want to be alone. This is, perhaps, unsurprising. No one wants to be alone. Not really.       She didn't want to be with people either. To this, a certain percentage of the population would nod their head. This is not to take away from the conundrum. There is, naturally, a certain perplexity to the dilemma. Unless, that is, you know what to do.      The woman did.      She went to the woods.      Which, of course, satisfies all requirements. 

A Logical Conclusion

The boy looks out the window. That's always the trouble, looking out the window. Looking out, and seeing what else is out there. And let me tell you, once you see what else is out there, it's nearly impossible to stay inside. And that's just on a day where you see birds. This little boy, he sees a dragon. How many seconds do you think he stays inside?       If you guessed two and a half seconds, you would have guessed half a second too long. The perk of having a window that opens onto a roof is that the time it takes to fling it open and jump through it is never longer than two seconds.      Which is to say, in less than no time the boy is on the roof, looking at the spot where the dragon has been moments before.       The dragon is still there, hovering.      It says nothing.      But just as the boy is about to continue staring open-mouthed while, coincidentally, also saying nothing, the dragon winks....

For a Price

 The Pied Piper calls the girls and boys. Boys and girls it calls them. But when they grow up, if they get the chance, it's rare that a man heeds the piper's call.      Still, it can happen.      But, for that, a man must listen. A rare thing indeed. Not to say anything against men. Only to say that there's less for them if they take the time to sit quietly. Only their soul. And that isn't valued as much, says the index.       But the Fae, though, they will pay a premium for a soul. They will buy it for a lifetime of riches, for a wealth of perfection, for a time's gain. In the end, though, they'll have the soul  —  and there's a guarantee out from the beset bounties that you'll want it back. And pay anything to get it.      Women don't sell their souls much. Men don't either  — mostly because they don't know of anyone who will pay a price. But the ones that know of it, their souls are long gone. And it...

The Good of Tears

 Once, there was a woman who did not cry. The world was harsh and cruel, and her life was as expected in such a place. What good would tears do her? But then came a kindness. Overwhelmed, the woman cried. The tears did her good. What good, she didn't know. But they were there, and she cried them. And that was how it was.