The Last Mystery

I woke up still tucked between the sweaters, and still, to my disappointment, very tiny.  A quick check confirmed that the fairy wings also remained firmly attached to my back.   I risked a  peek outside of the drawer, but nothing in the room had changed.  The lamp glowed softly, and the faded flower-print covers on the double bed were undisturbed.

I had no idea how long I’d slept.   Here the endless twilight never gave way to anything resembling daylight.  That hadn’t bothered me the other times I’d visited, when I'd been big, but now it left me cold.  I wanted to know how long I’d been in the drawer.  I needed to believe that the clock was ticking down on this fairy existence--that soon I would wake up somewhere else resembling myself again.

The quiet had begun to stifle me.  It seemed unwise to make my own noise, though, so I flew back to the restaurant in almost total silence.  Surely Marietta would be there by now.  She had to be.  She was the only hope I had left.