Fairy Stories & Other Tales

The carousing in the woodland began at dusk, as it always did. Only, this night was different because of the hunting. Hunting only happened on special nights. The nights that followed days when the wood had been invaded.       By people. With their wily ways.     Wily ways mattered to the woodland creatures because it meant that kindred were harmed. But it did not dull the revels; it only changed them. For on those nights, the nights when their numbers had been lessened, they visited the invaders. The people in their beds. And gave them dreams.     And when the night was over — the creatures with their hunting, the people waking from their haunting — the balance sat level.       Until, of course, it tipped again.

 Once upon a time the world was a nightmare. Or perhaps this is all times. The sky darkens, the wolves howl, and eyes close as the nightmare begins.     But.     Once upon a time the world was delightful. Or perhaps this is all times. The sky lightens, the wolves cuddle, and eyes open in wonder.     The end of the story is all in the eyes.

 Once a girl looked into a piece of glass. What comes next is the interesting part. But what came before is necessary. Origin is always necessary. Even for a piece of glass.     This glass had been casually tossed aside at some point. Perhaps by a careless person. Perhaps by a purposeful one who knew what she had been about. It was a nice piece of glass. Wondrous. As though it had been made by lightening itself. Or, perhaps, it was just a perfectly timed break from a larger piece — that didn't matter, though; it still worked. But the girl didn't know that yet.     Before the looking came the wonder, as the girl marveled as to how some stranger could come to toss something so interesting aside. Something very much like magic.     But perhaps it wasn't tossed at all. Perhaps it had been left. Because suddenly the piece of glass was as magic as it looked, for in looking into it's icy depths, the girl disappeared into another world.       The glass was left then. Left as th

 Once upon a time a girl ran away.     There were lots of reasons for this. And there were lots of reasons people thought she had run away. Their reasons had to do with wilfulness, disrespect, a constant need for attention. It was easy for them to think this way; it was how they had always thought of girls of her sort. It was a sort for which they had never cared. It was a sort they did not allow.     But her reasons were simple: she knew that she was unloved and she was brave enough to know that she was worth loving. And so she sought it out.     It was hard at first. Being loved is a tricky thing to let in, if you haven't had it before, like enjoying snow on your neck or savory ice cream. But determination covers a lot of ills, and this girl had it in spades. And so she gave herself an allowance made of love until she let others return the favor.     One day she went back to where she had started. Of course, she was loved then. So the rest of it didn't matter. It had all fade