• It was a cold evening in February, & yet, of course, Sadie had insisted I come to our old elementary school—which we had graduated from six years ago—to hang out. She’d always had a strange fascination with the place, even though she would do nothing but complain about it while we were enrolled.
    I found her scuffing her baggy-jean-clad feet in the safety sand, rocking back & forth absentmindedly on the undersized swing. Her knuckles were clamped and white, barring themselves against the cold, and upon closer inspection her knee (exposed by a fashionable tear) vibrated up and down on the spot at light speed.
    I cleared my throat to announce my presence; she didn’t seem to notice me (nothing out of the ordinary). She looked out onto the far side of the playground, untouched by the sickly yellow florescent lighting.
    “Saul,” she said, a hitch in her voice as she tilted her head. “Do you believe in fairies?”
    I blinked. “What?”
    “Fairies,” She said, a strange desperation in her eyes. “Do you believe in ‘em?”
    Fairies. That rang a bell. We used to play pretend a lot as kids. We’d build castles of twigs, fashion crowns of berries, and act out epic battles with dragons & griffins & chimeras… whatever those were.
    “No, I don’t,” I stated plainly. I couldn’t even complete my next word, for Sadie had sprung up.
    “What!? Don’t say that!” She squeaked, her fists clenched & eyes narrowed painfully. “Every time you say that, a fairy dies!”
    I chortled. “I’m sorry, you still believe in that?”
    “Of course I do! I mean…” She clutched her hands together at her waist, & again turned wistfully to that nostalgic garden. “… Sort of, at least.”
    It suddenly made sense to me. I sighed and stepped forward, my manliness draining away by the second at the mere thought of what I was going to do next.
    “A-Alright… m-my lady,” I stuttered, getting down on one knee, clumsily. “Shall we go on a… grand adventure?”
    Sadie’s eyes lit up, but she smiled with discomfort. “Hee, Saul, you didn’t have to go that far—“
    But I lunged at her & picked her up, sitting her on my shoulders. My legs quivered underneath me, not exactly being an athletic man.
    “S-Saulie!” She squealed, blinding me with her arms. “Put me down!”
    “But you’re a fairy, aren’t…. thee?” My ears were starting to burn. “Dost thou fairies… verily… fly?”
    She stopped her screeching for a moment, & settled in on my shoulders. “… U-um, yes, we do. Yeah. Uh, go on, fair knight! Godspeed! To the dragon’s den!”
    I started to walk, one, heavy, unsupported foot after another, until it became easier. My legs seemed to adjust, slowly but surely. Metallic clangs sounded as they pounded the floor. A helmet was thrown about my face. A sword materialized in my palm, fashioned out of the strongest metal. Sadie grew light as a feather, her arms spread out in front of her iridescent wings, her flower-braided hair flowing in the wind, stirred by the distant wing beats of wyverns as the sun set behind that glorious kingdom over the mountains…
    Then I fell flat on my face.
    She tumbled off of me, giggling childishly, & I spat dirt clods like watermelon seeds.
    I managed to lift myself eventually, my legs as heavy as though they still wore those iron boots, & Sadie, still a fairy in mind, danced on her toes, her hair swinging around her mortal form.
    “Thank you, Saulie.” She whispered. “That’s all I really needed.”
    I still didn’t believe in fairies, even after that. But as soon as I’d assured myself, she had strolled underneath one of those fluorescent lights, now made magical rather than putrid, as they, for a fraction of a wonderful second, threw their light upon Sadie’s amber colored wings.
    It was then that I believed.