Being a sprite, I don't need very much sleep - usually five or ten minutes will do - so after I had seen to this and that, caught five winks and had a
plate of melted fungus-on-toast, I sat out in my garden and thought about Amalina. I didn't really have a choice. I had fallen in love.
Usually we sprites are fairly self-sufficient in this type of thing: we form and break casual relationships as easily as may-flys on the last day of Spring. But once in a while something called 'The Autumn Mist' comes to one of us and we become fixated on a certain individual or other (in rare cases it can even be an inanimate object) and if our romantic yearnings are not returned we tend to pine away.
Now, sighing restlessly on my swing or pacing about my moss-garden grove, there was no mistaking the symptons, even though it was still only early June. I kept on seeing her face and hearing her raucous whispers and giggles.
It is not common for a sprite to fall in love with a human (or vice-versa) but occasionaly it does happen. I'm afraid it had happened to me. The Autumn Mist had enveloped me and had me in its grip.
It is the nearest thing, I imagine, that a fairy gets to developing the thing that mortals call a soul and experiencing the joys of heaven and the agonies of hell. Although it is not exactly eternal damnation it can, if left untended, last several months. Occasionally, as I have said, the victim can begin to waste away and fall into a deep state of coma resembling death.
Althonius Botaney, from Newcombe Mound, lay in such a coma for two summers (in human terms that would be about eighteen years), little more than a living pupa. His wings and antennae dropped off completely.
Then he suddenly recovered and went about his business as normal. Of course all of his old friends were now much older than he was and it took him several weeks and plenty of marshgrubs and moonbathing before he grew new wings and feelers but people say he is almost his old self again. He remembers nothing of who or what he fell in love with.
Occasionaly however, a sprite smitten by the Autumn Mist never recovers at all. Their sad and dessicated secondary pupa just crumbles away into a fine white powderery dust or else is eaten by some unthinking lizard or slug.
*
When I returned to your house the next day - I had eventually fallen asleep again after drinking half a bottle of blackberry syrup and had overslept dreadfully late - the entire house seemed closed up. Even the little bathroom window where I had previously found entrance was now firmly shut.
I hung about and circled the house for hours, trying to find some way in. She will be back soon, I told myself, school cannot last forever.
Yet the long day gradually dwindled and evening set in and still there was no sign of Amalina or any other activity in her house.
Children and parents returned to other houses on the estate. I could see and hear the noise and bustle as dogs greeted boys and girls returning from school and parents cars drove up driveways. But Amalina's house remained completely quiet and deserted.
What had happenned?
Usually we sprites are fairly self-sufficient in this type of thing: we form and break casual relationships as easily as may-flys on the last day of Spring. But once in a while something called 'The Autumn Mist' comes to one of us and we become fixated on a certain individual or other (in rare cases it can even be an inanimate object) and if our romantic yearnings are not returned we tend to pine away.
Now, sighing restlessly on my swing or pacing about my moss-garden grove, there was no mistaking the symptons, even though it was still only early June. I kept on seeing her face and hearing her raucous whispers and giggles.
It is not common for a sprite to fall in love with a human (or vice-versa) but occasionaly it does happen. I'm afraid it had happened to me. The Autumn Mist had enveloped me and had me in its grip.
It is the nearest thing, I imagine, that a fairy gets to developing the thing that mortals call a soul and experiencing the joys of heaven and the agonies of hell. Although it is not exactly eternal damnation it can, if left untended, last several months. Occasionally, as I have said, the victim can begin to waste away and fall into a deep state of coma resembling death.
Althonius Botaney, from Newcombe Mound, lay in such a coma for two summers (in human terms that would be about eighteen years), little more than a living pupa. His wings and antennae dropped off completely.
Then he suddenly recovered and went about his business as normal. Of course all of his old friends were now much older than he was and it took him several weeks and plenty of marshgrubs and moonbathing before he grew new wings and feelers but people say he is almost his old self again. He remembers nothing of who or what he fell in love with.
Occasionaly however, a sprite smitten by the Autumn Mist never recovers at all. Their sad and dessicated secondary pupa just crumbles away into a fine white powderery dust or else is eaten by some unthinking lizard or slug.
*
When I returned to your house the next day - I had eventually fallen asleep again after drinking half a bottle of blackberry syrup and had overslept dreadfully late - the entire house seemed closed up. Even the little bathroom window where I had previously found entrance was now firmly shut.
I hung about and circled the house for hours, trying to find some way in. She will be back soon, I told myself, school cannot last forever.
Yet the long day gradually dwindled and evening set in and still there was no sign of Amalina or any other activity in her house.
Children and parents returned to other houses on the estate. I could see and hear the noise and bustle as dogs greeted boys and girls returning from school and parents cars drove up driveways. But Amalina's house remained completely quiet and deserted.
What had happenned?
The Poets Garret
WildCity Writers' Workshop
Poetry Challenges
Selected Poetry
