Goblins and Lipstick (303 Words)
It’s a funny thing when a goblin falls in love with a human, or vice versa. This goblin fell in love with a young man. And although the time spent between them suggested he wasn’t repulsed by her, the goblin wasn’t sure.
She wasn’t a very good-looking goblin. But she had two legs and two arms, and except for the strangeness in her eyes and habits, she wasn’t so different. She and the young man would sit for hours outside her secret home in the woods. But she couldn’t forget how she had startled him when they first met. She never wanted to see him afraid of her again.
This goblin was clever at getting into all kinds of places without being seen. She studied humans, from their manners to their magazines, and that is how the idea came to her.
She was waiting for him when her young man called at twilight. She went to him, shy but hopeful.
The young man cried out in horror.
“What is it?” The goblin was startled. “What’s wrong?”
He raised his head, peeking between his fingers. “Why—why did you kill them?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The b-b-blood on your mouth—”
“Blood?” The goblin felt her lips. Her fingers came away a dark, purplish red. “This isn’t blood. Don’t you like it?”
The man’s eyes narrowed. He looked at her more closely.
The goblin nodded.
He laughed. His laugh was quiet, a relieved, involuntary exhalation. The goblin would have been hurt if she hadn’t seen the warmth in the man’s expression. His eyes were bright as he leaned and kissed her.
“I don’t think that’s your color,” he said. “You might want to try black.”
She smiled, lifting his chin so she could see him. “It isn’t your color, either,” she said.
Written in response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt, “Assay,” and CYW’s prompt for February 22, “Red Violet.” Check ’em out!