Annoyed, she hefted the heavy bag over her shoulder before dropping the thank you note on the floor. Her nerves were electric from the scare of the two large dogs that had chased her throughout the day. Now they lay on their beds snoring loudly. If she would have been welcomed, she would have climbed into the bed and gone to sleep herself. Fatigue filled her tiny, slender body. It was hard work to stay out of sight and still pull the pranks the taller versions of herself and family adored so much.
She slipped her legs over the edge of the table and tossed her bag down on the broad plane of the chair. Rolling over to her stomach, she slid over the edge of the table until her toes felt the top of her bag. She let go, landing softly on her supplies. Next, she would move to the floor. Her muscles tightened in anticipation. As she felt for the first rung of the chair, she wondered again what had happened in the history books.
She looked at the card laying on the floor. A young male of the Leprechaun species smiled up at her. A pot of gold sat at the end of a rainbow. In shaky letters it read "Thank you!" At least the kids had used her favorite color green. With a small thump, she landed next to the card. Looking into the brown eyes of the drawing she said, "Why does everybody think Leprechauns like rainbows and gold? And why are we always depicted as males?"
She opened a flap on her bag and pinched a small amount of powder. Returning to the face of the young man she added, "Leprechaun juice, paper waterfalls, weaving, poetry, letters, scavenger hunts, and on and on. All of it carefully planned for a year, magical powders carefully measured, care for the children and elderly arranged, and the men are thanked. The men who have nothing to do with it. It's enough to make me want to scream." Sprinkling the powder over the card, she whispered a string of vowels and watched as it shrunk to a more manageable size. Opening the center flap of her bag, she packed it with all the other notes, then slipped out the dog door and headed for home.
*** Daily Writing Practice ***
Friday, March 18, 2011
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