The sun poured through the windows of a home on a hill. Through a small chimney, smoke wafted out out into the open clean air of the world. It was a very peaceful time indeed. The wind took breaths but it never became too much to bear, and that my friend is why I believe the man that resided there, it reflected the beat of his heart; calmness and peaceful. On this particular morning his chest beat in a sound happy rhythm, he ground up his coffee beans and his own brew, soon after a few delicate sips (you see, he possessed a heat sensitive tongue, so this was a very normal ritual) he strolled along past all of his gizmo’s and gadgets that were sprawled along the floor and made his way out onto his porch. He sat down watched the sun, while two winged creatures wrestle using the sun as a spotlight for their movements, each move was prideful yet never felt as though it lacked a level of grace, they were playing to the beat of their hearts and it made the man wonder if he could possibly one day find the right tune that they were using. The light gleamed off their green and red scales respectively though from his distance it was only a shimmer to the man’s misty blue eyes.
Then through another sip he became sure that the idea he had just had was somewhat crazy, yet still it was nonetheless entertaining to him and at that very moment of total peace, it was all that mattered. Soon however as his senses further awoke, it became apparent that there had been a hard rainfall the night prior. The air had that pure taste that he was quite fond of. Though upon further inspection of his surroundings, as he took in the peace he noticed a slight disturbance amongst the flowers planted along his windows. A pink tulip seemed to posses a sudden tilt downward as there was a gain in the weight on the west most of petals.
He found his curiosity to be getting the best of him, he put his hand gently below the petals, in an effort to catch whatever could be inside. Without a second to pass by, the smallest feet he had ever laid eyes on graced his vision. Putting his hand close enough to the feet in order to give them a standing point, the being fell forward, not bracing itself for the impact and falling into his gasp following the light pressure of a metal object hitting his hands. Little bolts and screws popped out of the the device . The transparent wings glistened with droplets of water, they had small inscriptions on them. He found them to be illegible. Though could not deny the beauty of the design. They were a fairy’s wings. He took a breath to move back indoors, his hands trembling until he was able to place the being soundly onto his desk.
He went to grab the smallest of cloths he could find and put it over the creatures body, all in an effort to keep it warm. Then he set to work to make a bed, after all the guest should be comfortable. In that time he quietly sang to himself as he carved the the wood into the ideal shapes needed for his project. Time flew by, before he knew it, night had fallen. He picked up the fairy and put the newly crafted bed. The fairy stirred in her sleep, some part of her knew she a different place, yet she was not fearful. The only thing he could notice was her willingness to get even more comfortable.
It peaked the man’s interest, so he took some time for himself to do his research. He pulled out a thick book, the pages feeling rough and grainy. It possessed a great many drawings of creatures he had never had the luck of seeing in person. The drawing never stained any pages that they were not a part of. He took a breath, trying his hardest to contain his excitement. For the very first time, he had his own part of history to write out. That little fairy was unlike any other that he had seen. The little clothing she wore looked as though it were from another time. It was not a typical dress or other garment that his eyes had been able to process before… To him it was obscure and unnatural. The other drawings sported a different degree of dresses. Some were short and others long and quite the opposite.
Now to you or me, this clothing is far closer to the realm of familiarity: It was blue cloth wrapped around her lower half. Now he studied it in comparison to what he had given her. It was just a dress, one with colors of roses. Pink red and white… She certainly looked quite pretty in what he had given her but still… there was a feeling tugging at his heart strings, her hand was reaching for her own items even in her half dazed sleep. Her wild brown hair, seemed to take up the consistency of a pillow all on its own as her head rested.
In the following hours the man watched her and continued his drawing to document the occasion for the research of others. He had no inherent drawing talent, never practicing much beyond when his worked called for it. It was all in the pen, as it glided across the paper, the image became more and more coherent, sculpting out her face and finer curves, in the first picture her eyes were closed due to her current resting state. Then in some of the later hours he found himself wanting rest as well. He did. Though in a short sliver of time, The little creature was up and about on her own became instantly fascinated with the man eye lids. She quickly curled herself up near his nose and waited… She wasn’t sure what for but it was compelling to her none the less. She liked the new dress that was now in her possession, it felt silky to her skin, likely placed into the laughing tears of a scaly bird ….
The little thing pulled out her note pad from her older set of clothes that had been cleaned with the scent of strawberries. She found herself needing to climb over the many small contraptions. She had no fear of waking the man as her feet were far too small to even register against his ears. She went over to the large piece of parchment and saw the drawing’s head off to the right of her. She stood firm with her hands on her hips and looked in the direction of the ink. Then she closed her eyes and pressed her hands against her eyelids ever so delicately, then returned her gaze to the picture, a warm glow from the candle beside her gave her warmth. The white wax was dripping into a small pool in the side of the paper, though it had been occurring so slowly that it was still connected to the candle stick holder in a line that was rough around the edges.
Oh yes.. she remembered what her original intent was… she looked down at the parchment once more as her dress was molded to her body and felt so soft once again. The tears of the laughing scaly bird , of course! She jumped to her own exciting discovery, She wrote down, “The Hum can make the big birds laugh?. Then next she drew herself as if she were pondering all of the questions of the world and the sky held all the answers… (She was unsure if he would understand the last bit so she added a happy cloud above her and then also added a happy sun in the corner for good measure.)
And then because she could again, there was a smiling flower towering above her… She was getting a little carried away.. yet she kept going, soon there was grass that was happy as well and a little dewdrop also happy of course… then she fell asleep.. her wings sprawled out on each side. Then when she came to in the early rise of the bright light, she moved back into her sleeping arrangements. The paper was left to be the discovery of the other wether intentional or not.
The man woke up gently.. got his drink in his normal routine and headed back to his desk…. He saw the drawing, with all the happy things.. ”Likes happy things he wrote as a little aside Then he noticed the original drawing cluttered in the center, the one where she looked to be pondering something . He could not quite make out the words… Does not Focus well Was all he could think to write though he swiftly added something else In a cute way though He then connected her paper of smiles to his own with an arrow drawn toward it…. That was all that happened that day. The man went out on his porch again, this time with her tiny contraption in hand and placed it at a good angle to capture the look if the creatures in front of his home as they play fought into the beams of sunlight. He could see the crystal on the top of the device glistening. He left it there in hope the little thing may way at a reasonable time wake once more and see it right there waiting for her. Perhaps he would get lucky and get to see her use it.
Even if she never took the opportunity , it was just the right thing to do. Now maybe that sounds cliche,,, but there was no reason not to do such things. There she was still sleeping, and she was excellent at making no noise. He was certain of that. Most of the fairy types were like that. He quietly returned to his work to take notes on her but kept getting distracted by the note from her. Perhaps there was more to it than he originally perceived. Through the scribbles, he was finally able to make out her question of his relationship with “The big birds.” He took a deep breath, and the paper flickered a bit as the breath passed by.
He tried hard to remember the exact reason he had found those tears of laughter… Then by each second it came back, like a picture coming into focus, at first there was a film a whiteness then as he relaxed his mind things became far more clear. The two beasts, though they do get along well in the current time, went through a rough time w. here neither one could find the will to be near each other and seeing that the beasts have only a direct interest in speaking with him. It was probably due to the location being close to their point of origin but simultaneously there was a doubt of that being the case… perhaps it was only out of self-imposed importance that the man felt this way but still it made for a much better story…
He told it like this, with short, snappy sentences calm tones, he wasn’t so sure if she would even fully understand what he had to say, but the story had something she wanted to know placed deep within it. Perhaps it would be better to cut to the chase, the paper she had used was already short on space. He found himself scrapping the idea ”Sometimes laughter is the best medicine.” Was the answer vague? Yes it was but going into the specifics could be borderline exhausting for him. The reason made little sense even now; merely the creature had been fighting, and it just so happened that also the way the man had tried to humor the beast had worked a little too well.. Most of his clothing had become soaked with those tears, making it softer than ever but his skin was more sensitive than he had previously thought. So he found himself not wanting to wear the pieces, even still he crafted other items with the liquid on them. It was in a hope that they would actually find some level of use one day. Today seemed to be that time.
If he was going to go to sleep again there was a chance she could wake once more to lengthen his understanding… Maybe he could learn more about her if he was to ask. Could that work? He wasn’t sure. So with that question lingering in his head he set to work, putting a syringe within some of the tears and pulling it back up as the liquid pulsed inside. Then he slowly pressed it back down, the tears squirting back down onto some of the small clothing he had constructed.