The Fairies Have Returned

A strange report crossed this reporter’s desk last month. It seems a string of Christmas lights, long past the holiday season, but still wrapped around a porch at a local residence had been vandalized. The owner reported every colorful bulb was shattered, or rather, pulverized to dust. Stranger still, the columns appeared lightly etched with a definite swirling pattern filled with the multi-hued powder. It’s as if a very tall child had scribbled on the ten-foot column from top to bottom. The colorful marks remain after several washings, and a hastily applied coat of pain. The owner is considering his options.

Then a call came from in a resident living on the outskirts of town. The caller, who asked to remain anonymous, reported hearing strange noises coming from her chicken hut, but when she went to investigate, nothing was amiss. She would have considered it nonsense, except her chickens have begun to lay unusual eggs. Each morning she finds oddly hued eggs—blue, yellow, pink, orange—and sometimes all four swirled together when she reports her hens have never laid in any color other than white.

Things began to get truly bizarre when an unsigned letter addressed to this reporter arrived with the following statement:

The Fairies have returned.

The handwriting was small, precise, and elegant in a way no longer taught in schools. In fact, it was apparent the author had training in calligraphy. No indication of the sender was available on the envelope, as the letter had been found propped against the office door on a Tuesday morning. The paper seemed to be of common stock and no DNA was found. Several days passed without incident.

A week later, after rumors had begun to spread, a frantic caller from the southwest side of town reported three local boys had cornered a tiny, flying woman in a shed, but further inquiry confirmed the trio had mistakenly terrorized a moth. Another young man called to insist he had found the hive only to later appear at the Stoughton Hospital with dozens of hornet stings. Please remember, fairies move about only in daylight, and the rumor of a central hive has never been verified.

Now, in an exclusive to the Stoughton Press, this reporter can confirm the following event, as she was a first-hand witness. A large, tubular birdfeeder hangs outside the window of the Stoughton Press office. Over the years, we have raised several broods of house finches, chickadees, nuthatches, and cardinals, but the creature appearing one day at dawn was something from out of a legend.  The sun had just pierced a ragged hole in the heavy cloud cover, and being less than six feet from the feeder, there is little room for doubt. A tiny, winged creature, radiating a bright white light that seemed to crystallize into a rainbow within a few inches sat upon one of the perches. Her hair tumbled past her shoulders in pale blonde waves, and her ice-blue eyes held mine with a vise-like grip. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She raised her arm and brought a slender, pink finger to her lips as she contorted her face into a horrific smile full of tiny, pointed teeth. An instant later, she was gone. Just gone. I stared at that feeder all day, but the creature has never returned.

This reporter has inside knowledge of the destructive nature of fairies. You would do well to remember that these are not the fairies of a beloved Disney classic. I fully expect these creatures to bear a strong resemblance to the foul and fickle beasts of the old country. I urge you to ignore any attempt they may make to reach out, as they are renowned as tricksters. They think only of themselves, except, there was that one time, but that is a story for another day.

While we wait for their next move, residents are asked to be wary of friends, neighbors, and even family members randomly dancing an erratic jig or bursting into song as serious cases of fairy fever have been known to lead to skipping while laughing hysterically. The Stoughton Press asks our readership to report suspicious behavior immediately. Contacting the authorities will likely lead to ridicule as city leaders remain unconvinced of the infestation. It is the opinion of this reporter that Stoughton, is indeed, infested with fairies, but I don’t feel there is cause for alarm. In the coming days, keep watch for tiny, colorful displays, as there are sure to be more. And most importantly, DO NOT disturb toadstools. Trust me on this, and stay vigilant, dear reader. 

Originally published in the spring 2015 edition of the Stoughton Press