I had been praying for her for a week.
I should have done it from the beginning. I'm ashamed to say that at first, the idea was ridiculous. Who would have believed it? But that was before.
Before the pills, before the creams, before the whiskey. No, in addition to the whiskey. That nectar was the key to summoning her. Without it, I may never have heard her lovely voice. Who knew fairies liked hard liquor?
From there, I offered up everything to have her come to me. My computer, my comics, my sweet ass Micro Machines collection, my sanity (which had been gone by Thursday morning but I placed it on her altar anyway). I was desperate. She could have it all. I had promised that, if she would grant me this one tiny request, I would be her servant.
I'd give up my cartoons. I'd never touch Combos again (they were to blame for this hell anyway). I would emblazon her name onto my skin. I would dress like her and ride a stallion through the streets, proclaiming her as a goddess of healing. Anything she would desire of me, I would do.
If only she would rid me of that excruciating pain.
So, officer, that's why I'm on this horse statue. That's why I smell like whiskey, and yes, it is cold in this skirt. My toothache is gone, though.
My Recent Freewrites
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