This is a short story I wrote earlier this year, intending to post it for a flash fiction challenge (FFfAW) which had a duck pond as the prompt. In the end, I wrote a story about a witch and the ducking stool and posted that one instead. That story can be found here. I came across this story sitting in my Documents file today, and as I’ve (reluctantly) given up writing flash fiction for a while, I thought I might as well bring it out of hibernation. The picture is not the same prompt: this one is courtesy of Pixabay.
So here’s my story:
Drusilla hovered over the edge of the pond, scanning the blue-green water. Around her, the greening leaves of forest trees rustled in the April breeze.
‘Where are you, Alfrin?’ she called. ‘I know you’re down there somewhere. I saw you shoot off when I asked you to lay the table.’
After a few moments, she heaved a sigh. ‘If you don’t show yourself this minute, I’ll send your father to fetch you. You can’t hide anywhere from him, you know.’
A tiny head bobbed up, right next to a lily pad on which a big, green frog squatted. ‘But Dad’s already here!’ Alfrin retorted. ‘He’s showing me how to play hide-and-seek with the tadpoles.’
Freda, the frog, nodded sagely. ‘Of which I heartily approve. Our children need to play.’
A larger head suddenly emerged. ‘Hello darling. The water’s lovely… just couldn’t resist…’
Drusilla flapped her wings, ready to rant, then paused. Alfrin was learning to socialise, after all.
Two water sprites in the family would try the patience of any self-respecting fairy.
Word Count: 173