by Marshall Payne

“If you go, then you’ll be sorry,” Feylina told me. “You’ll never find your way back here again, and you’ll be stuck in Mundanity.”

I added more sunscreen to my bronze skin, skin that had always been a mottled fish-belly white back in the real world. Applying it generously to my firm abs that were in reality a paunchy nightmare. I didn’t need the lotion, of course, as the sun here could only warm and never singe, but I liked the coconut smell and it fit in with my idea of a magical island paradise. As did the mai tai sitting in the sand just beyond my beach blanket, and the adventure novel I was planning on planting my nose in shortly. “Then I’ll just have to live with it,” I told her. “At least I’ll finally be rid of you.”

Fluttering above me, her wings buzzing like some obnoxious insect, she said, “Yes, that you will. But you’ll be the big loser.” She huffed. “Listen, Bradley, I’ve tried to help you, but you just won’t listen. I’m not saying that everything you do is wrong, but you well-nigh lay claim to that substandard domain all by yourself. When will you get it through that thick mortal head of yours that Fey rule? That our superiority is a proven fact. Since you’ve been here I’ve spent much time trying to teach you the ways of proper comportment, let alone the correct methods of how to achieve enlightenment, but you’ve paid me little heed. I have half a mind to . . .”

And once Feylina got started, there was no shutting her up. I’d been in this realm now for nearly a month--though they have their own methods of measuring time here--and every day it had been one damned thing after another. There was no way of pleasing this airborne enchantress and I for one was damned sure tired of trying.

“. . . and if you think that you can prosper without my sage advice,” she went on, “then you’re a bigger fool that I took you for. You have no conception of . . .”

And with that I stood, downed my mai tai in two gulps, and tossed my empty chalice onto the sand. I did scoop down and snatch up my paperback, however, as some fantasies would still be permitted. And then headed off over the dunes.

“Where are you going?” she screamed, buzzing after me. “I demand that you . . .”

The panic in her voice was evident now, but I ignored her. I could tell her that Mundanity, as she called it, awaited me and once I crossed back over she was the one who would cease to exist. But I didn’t bother. Her nonexistence wouldn’t matter to her one way or the other momentarily. While I would find it a blessed relief.

With a sigh, I closed my eyes and willed various incredibilities to cease functioning. My vacation was over. Next year I’d explore other options.

*****the end*****