by Stephen Herczeg
I found them at the bottom of the garden. Sparkling. Beautiful. Little winged people. They looked hungry, so I left a table covered with treats on the lawn.
Mummy and I went out. Daddy did the mowing.
As the garage door went up, Mummy started screaming.
There was the table. There were the treats.
There was Daddy.
Lying on the garage floor in a pool of blood. His face was gone. Just a staring skull. They’d gobbled it all up.
I warned him before we left. I did. I told him.
“Please don’t move the treats. The fairies gotta eat.”