Of course Captain Roberts knew about the fairies. He was proud of them. Roberts had retired from the sea when his health broke with the rough weather, and his happiness was divided between his wife, who owned the tavern, and the tribe of fairies who helped with the brewing and cooking.
Well who isn’t? Here’s a very short fic following the tribulations and triumphs of a little girl who is allergic to good behavior.
Little Gail Grey
Little Gail Grey was marvelously horrid.
She had her own room and her own set of colored pencils. She had her very own dollhouse, a closet that was two feet by six which is not bad when you think about it, and a bathroom that was hers approximately seven months out of the twelve because when her older sister Betsy came home on holidays, she had to share. She had a frog in a bowl who was spotted and fat, a sticker collection, and a pillow that was lavender on one side and pink on the flip.
Gail thought that if the frog were a nice frog, it would rouse enough energy at least to die, because it was very boring and she wanted another one. She thought Betsy, her sister, ought to clean the bathroom without their taking turns since she was borrowing it after all. She thought that she—Gail—should be paid per usage, since her ten dollar a week allowance wasn’t nearly enough.
“It isn’t fair,” said Gail Grey. “No one cares what I want! No one ever listens to me.”
Today’s prompt posed a difficult challenge. My Friend and I were entirely stumped to reveal the best advice we had ever been given. My Imp came to the rescue. He told us he remembered an episode from the ancient days, when an acquaintance of his was charged with looking after someone else’s baby for an indefinite period of time. At that time, the sympathy and encouragement of an older person proved invaluable.
Also, please excuse the quotes–old habits die hard.