A Day in the Life

May 2004

I’m walking down the street, waving to the faerie that owns the tailoring shop. She is a very good seamstress and very nice, too. Her brother used to be my boyfriend until we decided it just wasn’t going to work. Last I saw of him, he was dating a knight from the north. I passed the flower shop, nodding to the dryad that was the florist. She’s a very good listener, though sometime it’s a little unnerving to watch her shift from plant to plant. She is, after all, a forest spirit; she has to mold her body using plants. She married an undine from the local pond, a very compassionate woman. When I was little, I fell into that pond, but the undine rescued me from underwater and carried me to the shore. Sometimes I wonder if the florist and the undine can, well you know, do it. Then I stop thinking, because I weird myself out without disturbing mental images.

“Hi!” I shout over to Circe, the sorceress from those western schools. She’s very cultured, but for some reason she really likes my little town. I like it, too, well enough, but someone like her doesn’t make sense, if you know what I mean? She has the most beautiful blonde hair I’ve ever seen; I wish I had that kind of hair.

I make sure to avoid the basilisk since he’s having a bad day, according to Diana. She’s a kestrel that lives nearby my apartment. She’s such a gossip too, but it keeps me informed with what the hell happens around here. A cloud of sprites suddenly zoom past my head, interrupting my thoughts. Mrs. Frey shakes a fist at the sprites, grumbling. I hide a smile. Mrs. Frey blusters and rumbles a lot, but she’s incredibly soft-hearted. When the local dragon got sick, Mrs. Frey immediately started a collection of magic from anybody that could donate, to give the dragon (dragons eat processed magic and expel it raw back into the environment). Needless to say, collecting magic is hard and a bit dangerous. She’s even taken care of me from time to time. Her chicken soup is to die for.

“Hello, Ilya,” I say shyly, as I pass him. He gives me a charming smile, and I can’t help but to grin back. He’s been my crush for the past year. After a few failed relationships, I sort of declared myself celibate for a while. Why? Ilya just seems staid – that would be a good word. I’m not sure since I can’t sense anything from him. His emotions are shielded from me better than Cerberus guarding the gates of Hell.

I look at my watch ñ it is time already. I sigh and wave goodbye to Ilya and jog back. I almost run into Loki; he just gives me a dirty look before muttering something under his breath as he walks away. Or she. Loki is, in a word, androgynous. Most people are never sure when he’s male or when he’s female. Sometimes I think he’s both.

I reach my building and check in at the front desk. The clerk – a troll – smiles and asks about my walk. I shrug and say it was okay. She nods to two men standing off to the side: my guards. We walk up the stairs to my apartment. It’s only one room, but that’s okay. It fits my needs.

One of my guards unlocks my door while the other gives me my jacket. I wrap it around me tightly and walk into the room. They close the door behind me and lock it. I sit in the middle of the floor; it’s very nice, all padded. I wait a few moments. The seconds tick by, even though I don’t have a clock.

And then I scream.