This photo was taken by an Android retro camera called ‘Little Yellow Box’. I captured this little one flitting about my desk, like she didn’t happen to have a million better places to be than the cesspool of banality that is the cubicle farm.
I managed to engage her in conversation, though knowing faeries quite well, I know better than to take her words as gospel.
She told me her job in Harrisburg is very important, vital, even. Mortals don’t usually believe in faeries anymore. Unfortunately, the bad faeries are very opportunistic and take advantage of this to be naughty and get away with it. So the Queen will sometimes dispatch good faeries to watch the bad ones on Earth. This isn’t because she worries about humans getting hurt; she wants to prevent humans accidentally learning faerie magic. It is a closely guarded secret.
Firefly, for that was the name she called herself, said she liked some humans, but that most were insufferable.
I asked her which humans she liked, and her answer surprised me. She said she liked the science types, because they unconsciously sought to achieve the level of consciousness and world-awareness that comes naturally to the fae.
“But what about artists?” I asked, remembering tales from my youth.
“Bah! We have a thousand and one of them!” She explained that indeed some, like the Leannan Sidhe, gravitate toward artists, but not all. “We have painters and poets, but nowhere a computer or lab to be found.”
I decided not to ask what a faerie needs with a computer. Perhaps she was a gnome in disguise. But more likely, she was yanking my chain.