William Bereza on Unsplash

“I need to charge my phone,” said the red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse); “if for some reason that strange door would not open for our friends outside, I will be able to talk to them at least, unless you have yours,” as she looked up to the tall, thin man… “well, do you have yours, your phone?”

But the tall, thin man had not commented about that, he had other thoughts about things, like that four-foot bellhop.

So, la Raconteuse had decided to move a little further away, since she still found that very short person, or whatever he was, was rather hostile she felt.

La Raconteuse put her charger on, and then put both of them by one of the shelves, it was the one with the excellent many clocks and stuff; it was lucky, she thought to herself, that she hadn’t left the charger at home, since she often did.

She continued to look at that large steampunk clockwork machine, it was so interesting, but then she suddenly saw a rather tiny… what? a fairy perhaps? but certainly a little female person and it, sorry, she, was moving quite quickly as she was pirouetting along the clocks.

La Raconteuse peered at the little person, and then a moment later the pirouetting stopped, and the tiny person peered back at her, and said: “my name is Honeybun, and I am a sprite, by the way, and also I don’t like my name, I prefer to be called Moxie…so there.”

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