Jon Smith

kelly la fountain

Leroy Moorehead

English

She seemed tired and her gaze was always lost on the horizon, but she was alert. Her long dark hair fell to her narrow waist to rest in a small cage where she reclined. Inside was me.

She wore my cage on her belt anytime she left home, but even when she set the cage down, she never let me out. I am a Pixie, and Pixies are slaves, kept for the magic humans can steal from us. She need to only touch my cage, and my powers were hers to command.

The convenience of exploitation and subjugation had collectively robbed humanity of its memory. The sad truth is that humans are magical beings as well, each one possessing an aura just as potent (if not different) as that of any pixie. The entitlement of elitism took their magic

Untitled