It's been a long and terrible day.

[wilomn]

And while she slept, sore throat forgotten while tired eyes saw naught, The Fecal Fairies came to call.

Little things they are, scant 4 inches most times, green and blue, orange and red but never brown. Four wings transparent but coloured like a fine stainedglass work, they dappled everything around them having a light shine from within to illuminate that without.

Long of leg, though still so small, agile fingers loosen clasps and sift through shavings, muscles bulging wings a shimmer with a wink and a spin poops all gone and clean cages glimmer.

Away they go, zipping in loops and wild gyrations as in tromp the Wall Space Thwarts, they who defeat that which shouldn't win. Spices and blends, herbs and stones, feathers and seeds, roots and berries mixed just to into elixirs of health and wellbeing, tincture tincted and poultices poulted, all with a soft deep thrum of a hum from they who seldom venture into the open, preferring instead the safety of security brought about by steady sturdy walls all about.

Big Black Boots with laces running high make no sound at all as they cavort and caper, turning summersaults and cartwheels, pyramiding up and over as they too leave, elixer elicted and ill feelings tied up tight then set to right, disappearing forever down a hole never seen as the dance continues and the sounds not heard disappear from view leaving only a sleeping happily, breathing easily, not worried any morily.....you.

Sorry you don't feel well.

Hope you feel better.

Watch where you step if you get up in the middle of the night. Sometimes the Thwarts get carried away and lose track of time.