The Farmer and the Korrigan: A Flash Fic

The Farmer and the Korrigan

We wander through the mist and the mud, the land brown and desolate. I know in my heart that I’ll never see my Solenn again, that this fairy woman whose hair was glossy, thick and blonde like my dead mother’s, whose eyes were the colour of mossy boulders, whose skin was like silk has tricked me into roaming this part Breton, part fae countryside forever, a spectre trapped between two worlds. There’s no point asking why she did it, enchanting herself to look achingly beautiful, or what made my sense of self-preservation fade as I spent the night in her bower. I could ask her, but she’ll never answer.
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We wander through the mist and the mud, the land brown and desolate. This man who I’m sure I’ll be cursed to drag along beside me until time itself gives out won’t even look at me now my back is bent and my skin wrinkled, my lips dry and my gossamer dress ripped to black rags. He won’t admit that it was his lust that made him forget his new wife, that magic had little to do with it. If he asked, I could tell him that my form-shifting spell was a test and he failed it. I could tell him that I am his moral conscience. I could tell him that all he has to do is utter sorry and mean it and he and I will both be free. I could tell him, but he’ll never ask.