Year of study: fifth
Assignment type: solo
The blonde in the miniskirt leans closer to her mirror and dabs something over her eyelids. “So then I told him that I’d just have to skip the game if he was gonna be like that, and he was all like, whatever babe, doesn’t bother me.”
Her friend, lying on the bed flipping through a magazine, looks up. “Ugh, what a douchebag.”
“I know. Total asshat, right?”
Douchebag? Asshat? I haven’t heard those before, but they sound like names I could use for Ryn when the occasion next calls for it.
“How could I ever have thought he was The One, you know?” Miniskirt Girl drags mascara over her lashes. “Like, I was gonna give myself to him. I mean, how gross.”
Okay. Did not need to know that. I wander over to the bed and check beneath it for yuromanters, but I see no sign of the tiny insect-like fae with the triangle faces. They’ll most likely aim for the dresser when they get here; they have a weird affinity for makeup. Trying not to move the closet doors too much—that would certainly look weird to a human—I peek inside. Wow. What a mess. It’s a wonder this girl can—
A scream cuts through the sound of the radio, and I whip around.
Yuromanters. Everywhere. And clearly they’re not intelligent enough to know they should glamour themselves in front of humans. Some scurry across the floor, while others zoom through the air, all heading for the makeup scattered across the dresser. Colors shift and shimmer like burning coals beneath their wings. Beautiful, but now’s really not the time to admire them.
Miniskirt Girl jumps onto the bed and clutches her friend, who is now also screeching at the top of her lungs.
I sigh and being drawing magic from deep within me. I wish the Seer has been just a little clearer about the number of yuromanters I’d be rounding up.
~ ~ ~
Like this flash fiction? Find out more about the Creepy Hollow series.
If you'd like to know more about my A to Z flash fiction pieces, read my A to Z Challenge Theme for 2012 post.