My mama left me three things – a temper, hotter than a supernova, a Tedaskerian saw-blade that can mince bone, and a small, rowan-wood pendant, shaped like a peach pit.
Mama believed in grit and faeries, and I was wise enough never to call bullshit on the latter. Forgive me, Mama, for ever doubting.
Today I woke up beneath a warm corpse. A mythical creature is squatting on Aelin’s back, and peering into my face.
My blade passes through its side, like a hand through smoke.
The fairy laughs, and stabs a finger into my eye. “Should’ve tried iron, little human.”
Author bio: Holly Karlsson is a storyteller and fervent mountain roamer. Her flash fiction can be found online at hollyjkarlsson.com.
Eyesore is part of 101 Fiction issue 19.