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June 21, 2005
Volume 2, Issue 21
June 21 is the summer solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, also known in pagan circles as Midsummer's Eve. Midsummer is when the sun is at the height of its power, the faeries are most active, and the future can be uncovered with ease...
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Michele: Faeries Wear Boots
She hated this day. She hated the moist, clingy air, how the heat’s fingers slipped up her party dress, leaving a trail of beaded sweat under her breasts. She hated how the faeries, cloaked in layers of fancy, danced and stomped for her sister as if the sun wasn’t a relentless beast.
As the day bled into night, she watched as her sister grew ever more beautiful, reveling in flickering faerie light. She envied her laughing, radiant dance.
Winter slipped away from the festivities at midnight and sat alone, guiltily counting the days until her sister Summer’s beauty would fade.
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Tanya: A Midsummer Night's Wakeup Call
She lit the last of the candles and called her smallest cat into the room. Everything seemed ready, the ingredients at hand, as she dropped her cloak and sat skyclad among the herbs and petals strewn in a circle on the floor.
Slowly, carefully, she performed the spell, asking the only question that still concerned her. Her life was perfect, missing only one thing. She sent the goddess her plea, then raised the antique silver goblet to look for the reply.
She saw the results immediately. Finally convinced, she swore loudly, and drove to the store for Ben and Jerry's.
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Ted: The Fragrant Reckoning
Brenda smelled death. She lit a cone of incense.
Then she saw the sidhe.
"Mmmmm."
"Pardon?"
"Your offering. It pleases me. I will grant you a wish."
"Are you a demon?"
"No. Wrong mythos. What is your wish?"
"Are you an angel?"
"Beyond legend, beyond memory, that is where and what I am. I am not part of your pantheon on father, son, and ghost. I am the truth! You, who made the irresistable scent should know that. Now, for the last time, what is your wish!"
"I just wanted the smell to go away," she whined.
Her nose vanished.
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From the Comments: Marc
Psst! Wanna know a secret? Yeah, yeah, the faeries are gonna be flitting and twirling and whatever other cutesy thing they do. Well, it's all fake. Faeries can't fly. A dead cow has as much vertical as your average faerie. It's all wires. While all those pretty boys and tarts are flying around the glen it's me and my boys down here working our faerie asses off pulling on the ropes, turning the mobile wheels hidden in the branches. They say the future is easier to see tonight. Well, I know mine. A bucket of Bud and a sore back.
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