The Farmer and the Korrigan: A Flash Fic
The Farmer and the Korrigan
We wander through the mist and the mud, the land brown and desolate. I know in my heart that I���ll never see my Solenn again, that this fairy woman whose hair was glossy, thick and blonde like my dead mother���s, whose eyes were the colour of mossy boulders, whose skin was like silk has tricked me into roaming this part Breton, part fae countryside forever, a spectre trapped between two worlds. There���s no point asking why she did it, enchanting herself to look achingly beautiful, or what made my sense of self-preservation fade as I spent the night in her bower. I could ask her, but she���ll never answer.
�� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� �� *
We wander through the mist and the mud, the land brown and desolate. This man who I���m sure I���ll be cursed to drag along beside me until time itself gives out won���t even look at me now my back is bent and my skin wrinkled, my lips dry and my gossamer dress ripped to black rags. He won���t admit that it was his lust that made him forget his new wife, that magic had little to do with it. If he asked, I could tell him that my form-shifting spell was a test and he failed it. I could tell him that I am his moral conscience. I could tell him that all he has to do is utter sorry and mean it and he and I will both be free. I could tell him, but he���ll never ask.
