
“The portal!” shouted Valeleaf, flying his moth straight into the streetlamp.
It’s just a streetlamp,” called Thistlehorn.
He sighed. Secret missions into the human world were tough enough, but their portal back home had moved. Add to it, Fae knew in their bones lights were signs of powerful magic. And they couldn’t resist charging any light. In the human world, lights meant little.
“There!”
“Porch light.”
“That one!”
“Tattoo Parlor.”
Thistlethorn sighed. He knew where the portal moved to. He could only imagine the frenzy when the new guy saw millions of lights in Times Square for the first time.
______________________________________
Written for the Friday Fictioneers: https://rochellewisoff.com/2021/03/24/26-march-2021/
That would be a bit light splat … 😉
(as for the portal, I would recommend asking the fireflies. They seem to be in the known of such stuff).
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Imagine arriving in Time Square on Christmas Eve 🎉🛸
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Oh my… too many false hopes!
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Dear Eric,
Flew his moth? So those annoying little flitting, cloth eating creatures are really vehicles? Who knew? As always I set my coffee aside. Laughing out loud! You’ve been missed.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Yep. Moths are just aircraft piloted by faeries, trying to get home. 😉 It’s good to be back, and so much for catching you off guard. I’ve missed you folks too. 🙂
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Tattoo parlor, hilarious!
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Valeleaf, no, that’s a bug zapper… oh. Poor Valeleaf 😦
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I knew there was a secret portal somewhere in Times Square! It’s unnatural. Fun story.
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It is always the same for secret agents, the detail of getting out alive is overlooked.
Is the moth on auto-pilot?
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Ah-ha! Moths in the winter are transports. I’ll be watching for them. Loved this!
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I enjoyed the light-hearted feel in this one, and especially the last line. Excellent.
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