English folklore tells of the tale of another world, a dimension where magic is real and the fae hold court. Linger too long, and you may never return. Victoria Brun explores the liminal spaces between our world and theirs in this lovely piece of flash fiction. If you don’t travel to Faerie, is there a chance it will come to you? Read on, and find out.
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It started in a doctor’s office with lime green walls. After the doctor said ‘cancer,’ I didn’t hear another word he spoke. His mouth still moved, but instead of words, a strange tintinnabular melody wafted through the air. It was hauntingly beautiful—yet it sent my stomach churning. I assumed this was the sound of panic.
After that, the change was slow. Slow like waiting on test results. Slow like waiting on the scheduling department to return my call.
A few days later, I noticed that my local coffee shop now sold shots of nectar and morning dew. Some new TikTok craze, perhaps? The ALDI’s cashier spoke only in riddles, but no one else batted an eye, so I merely nodded my way through the checkout line. The gingerbread siding on my Victorian house started to look like real gingerbread—surely a side effect of fatigue. I hadn’t been sleeping well.

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