Forgotten

I woke up as a fairy in the empty restaurant next to the woods.  I suppose I always knew when I wanted to live in the dollhouse in the attic that my hopes and dreams beat inside of a tiny heart.  But not until I opened my eyes and found myself crouching in the furthest corner of the kitchen pantry did I know for certain.

I had been gone for a year—where, I couldn’t say.  Some industrious housekeeper within had thrown huge dust covers over much of my memory, but I wasn’t sure I minded.  Something about the twilight endlessly falling over the woods told me that the last good day had been long ago.