Umber (47.24 — Oleander’s Story)

August 30, 2012 § Leave a comment

In a somber voice Miss Brigid replied, “There was nothing they could do.  They were trapped in the muck and couldn’t get out.  They cried for help as the banshee came closer.  It was almost upon them, its gaping, ragged, slobbering maw hovering over them like a giant bell jar, about to devour them both, when a tiny voice said, ‘stop moving!’

“The voice seemed disembodied.  They searched frantically for its source.  Finally they saw a wee little man in a velveteen suit standing on a branch that stuck out of the bog.

” ‘I can save you from the banshee, but I can’t let you out of the bog,’ he told them.

” ‘Please, please, help us,’ they cried.

“So the wee man snapped his fingers and the banshee stopped abruptly, as if shocked by the snapping sound.  It started rotating in a counter-clockwise direction, slowly at first, then picking up speed like a whirling dervish, transparent skin and seaweed spinning out around it.  It spun faster and faster until it was only a blur.  Then it dissolved into nothing.”


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