Somewhere within the Atlantic ocean, the fairy stirred awake to the sound of a seaworthy vessel’s air horn. She popped her head up, brushing the green and white hair out of her eyes, its natural curl being too stubborn to stay put. She glanced down at the piece of plastic she was adrift on, rocking in the ocean’s waves.
“Fuuuck, what a night,” she proclaimed to herself. What a night it was! The mythical being partied with gnomes, nymphs, satyrs, fellow fairies and the odd pixie or two. She held her head, which was throbbing from the liquor, or maybe drinking salt water, or both.
Cehic, the grand fairy of mischief and accidents; now reduced to a four inch, hungover mess of a creature. “What time is it even?” She summoned her wand and gave it a shake to reveal that it was already well past the afternoon. “Holy shit! I gotta get to work,” she blurted out hastily to herself.