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The Green Fairy
By Sandra Scholes
Sometimes truth is born of dreams and imaginings, and other times what a man says is nothing more than the mad ramblings of someone who had long since lost his mind.
There once was a sane man who rummaged through a box of his now dead friend's belongings. These were the remains of a solitary life: a writing set, tobacco pipes, and several old and tattered tomes that philosophy and religion lay at the bottom of the pile. As he delved even further, he saw an old bottle. Taking it out he glanced at it, remembering how his friend used to leave it on the mantelpiece next to his other trinkets. It looked as normal as he expected—clear though the liquid inside it was as green as emerald. He put the bottle down and reached for a tall glass.
"If I can't toast to my dead friend, well, I'm not worth any of what he left me," he uttered, staring at the cork inside the bottle's neck.
Latin words the man could not make out had been burned into the cork, along with the crude image of a female fairy. Shaking his head, the man tugged at the cork before wrenching it from the bottle.
"Looks like you weren't supposed to come out," he murmured, tossing the cork aside, and pouring out the liquid. No sooner had he done this than sparkles of green dust arose from the bottle and swept around him.
"You're right about that," said the creature before him. "I've been sealed in there for quite a while, so I thank you for releasing me at last."
Before him stood a six-foot woman, as green as the liquid he had just drank, wearing nothing more than a gossamer dress.
"Who he devil are you?" he said, the shock evident in his eyes.
"The Absinthe Fairy." She winked as she replied, blowing more fairy dust in his eyes.
He watched the way her breasts swayed with each movement she made, seeing the nipples poke from under her dress, teasing him, tempting him. Her beauty knew no equal. He found it hard to resist her so when she offered her hand, he could do nothing but accept it.
"So who sealed you?" he later whispered. He nearly wondered why he said those words, but he was so frank, she took it as nothing more than bedroom conversation.
"I wasn't always in this bottle. I lived in the forest among the trees, the dragonflies, butterflies and the scent of the wormwood, but a witch took a fancy to me, wanting to bind me to her. I resisted and she...well, she forced me into the bottle as punishment." The fairy pushed the straps of her dress over her shoulders. He kissed her shoulders all the way down to her breasts, taking in her wonderful scent of magic and woodland.
"So you've been in there a few years then," he joked. "I wonder what I get for releasing you."
Effortlessly she moved away from his touch, letting her dress fall to the ground. "You get me, but I may be more than you can handle." They lay together for hours, with him thinking that on meeting her all his fortunes had come at once.
As the fairy slept, the man thought of what he would do next. He had friends who would no doubt visit him soon. The more he thought about it, the more the man thought he could not show his new woman to anyone else.
When the fairy woke up, she noticed the man was lost in thought, his brow furrowed. She placed her hand on her shoulder and said, "You know you cannot keep me from seeing the outside world. I have been imprisoned for what feels like an eternity. A fairy needs her freedom."
"But I can't show you to others. They would not believe you existed. They would think me mad. Or, if they did believe you were real, they would want to take you from me."
The Absinthe Fairy smiled, slipping on her dress.
"It looks like you have only two options: Let me leave or seal me back in that bottle."
So the fairy had lured him with her beauty and, now released from the bottle, all she wanted was continued freedom.
Annoyed, he remembered something that soon made him smile. "No, Fairy, if I remember rightly, you have only two choices,"
The fairy laughed at him, malice in her green eyes. "What can you possibly mean by that?"
"What I said, Fairy. The cork I have in my hand has your image on it. It also has what must be a spell. If I say the words burned on the cork, I can seal you back in that bottle. So you can be sealed back in that bottle or you can be my wife."
And so she became his bride.
#ShortStory #Fiction #CreativeWriting #GreenFairy #AbsintheFairy #Marriage #Wedding #Enslavement #Love #Lust