Marabell gazed out from her pretty prison, and gave
a sad sigh that nobody heard as people bustled about all around
her.  When nightfall came she would escape from the spell that
currently held her captive, and for a few hours do some bustling about
of her own. When moonlight softened all the daylight shadows, she would
spread her gossamer wings and flit among those diffused umbras. 
The ancient curse that held her captive in this modern world was only
lifted between the witching hour, and dawn's first light.  The
second the sun's rays shone past the horizon, she would once more be
imprisoned until the clock struck the witching hour again.  

    Once upon time, she and others like her had flitted
about free and happy in the many great forests that had dotted the
earth's landscape.  Back then many people had believed in and
accepted her kind as a rarely glimpsed, but natural part of that well
forested landscape.  Times had gradually changed though.  So
many of the large forests that had been their homes had been decimated
by axes, then later large noisy chainsaws.  Each time a tree had
been felled, a little bit of the belief that had kept her kind alive
and well, had also died.  Ironically, some of the paper that had
once been living trees was used to write tales that told amazing
stories of her kind.  Upon that paper was also stories of other
kinds of creatures who had once roamed the forests that paper came
from.

    By the time the forests began to ring with the
dreadful sound of those noisy chainsaws, many kinds of creatures that
had once found safe haven in the forests were becoming extinct. 
Gaia wept as the forests were decimated and the creatures who depended
upon those forests began to die off.  The Great Earth Mother had
given a few of the witches and wizards whose magick was still strong
and true the power to cast a spell that would insure her favorite
magickal creatures would survive in some form.  Those creatures
were not exactly thrilled with the spell that had been cast upon them,
but understood that it was necessary for their survival.

    During the day the spell held them in forms which
allowed them to exist in this new world that the hand of mankind was
creating.  The words written about them first on paper, and then
later on digital screens helped to keep the spirits of those many
magickal creatures alive.  The pretty prisons that held their
bodies helped to protect them from the often cruel and unfeeling hand
of modern mankind.  Though the forests that once gave safe haven
to so many creatures were mere shadows of their former selfs, there was
an abundance of pretty prisons that could be used to house and protect
Gaia's favorite magickal creatures.

    Marabell had been inside her current prison for many
months now.  She had been confined to it when her previous prison
had met destruction during a great storm that the humans around her had
called Katrina. She had been reasonably happy in that previous
prison.  During sunny days the surrounding garden had been filled
with the sounds of birds singing, and the sight of many colorful
flowers.  As humans went, the older couple who had lived in the
house the garden belonged to had been pleasant enough.  They had
even made sure her pretty prison was set safely in a secluded part of
the garden that offered plenty of shade and protection against the
elements.  The couple kept the garden well tended, even installing
a small pond and waterfall two years before the great storm.  The
pond and waterfall had been near her pretty prison. She had enjoyed the
sound of the waterfall, and the sight of birds and other creatures
drinking from the pond.

    The great storm had brought that reasonably happy
time to a terrible end though.  The couple had begged their son
and daughter-in-law to let them take some of things from the garden
with them when they had come to whisk the older couple away to safe
ground.  But, time had been short, space in their vehicle limited,
and along with the pond and waterfall, Marabell's pretty prison had
been left to the mercy of the great storm.  Unfortunately, that
great storm had shown no mercy to city it had devastated.  As the
walls of her pretty prison shattered in the storm, Gaia's loving hand
had rescued Marabell.  She had taken her a place where many pretty
prisons were manufactured.  There she was safely deposited in
another pretty prison.  

    Suddenly, Marabell heard a familiar voice.  She
had heard that voice only a few times before.  The last time she
had heard it the owner of that voice had been begging Gracie to please
stop worrying about a bunch of easily replaceable knick knacks, and get
in the car so they get out of town before evacuation traffic became
worse.  Marabell felt a hand close around her pretty prison and
Susan say, "Look mother, this is just like the little faerie you had in
your garden."  Marabell felt her pretty prison exchange hands, and
the fingers of the old woman lovingly stroking it.  Then the very
familiar voice of Gracie said, "We can put it under the new tree Gerald
planted, and bring a bit of magick back to the garden."

Susan gave her mother-in-law an indulgent smile, and handed the clerk
her own credit card.  Gracie and Donald had lost so much to the
storm.  Their house and the beautiful garden Gracie loved so much
had been completely destroyed by Katrina.  Between the insurance
and the fact that Gerald owned a construction company, the house and
garden has been rebuilt in a very timely manner.  But losing
certain things that couldn't be replaced had taken a toll on Gracie. If
Gracie thought having the little garden faerie she now held so lovingly
in her hands would bring back a little of the magick that once made her
faded blue eyes twinkle with mirth, Susan would gladly pay for the
little faerie and give it to Gracie as a gift of love.

    Gaia smiled as one of her favorite faeries was
returned to the care of Gracie.  She knew Marabell would be
lovingly cared for by her.  She also knew when Gracie's time on
earth was finally up, Susan would take the little faerie and keep it in
her garden as a memento of her beloved mother-in-law.  As Gracie's
fingers lovingly caressed the statue, Gaia felt the terrible depression
that had overtaken both Marabell and Gracie since Katrina had blown
through their lives like a very ill wind, lift slightly from both their
hearts and souls.  Through Gracie's loving touch Marabell would
come to understand the inexpensive ceramic facsimile of herself that
she always thought of as a pretty prison was in reality, the only safe
haven to be had in this modern world for faeries and other magickal
creatures.

    Perhaps there would once more come a time when
faeries, elves, unicorns, leprechauns and other magickal creatures
would roam great forests and be considered a natural part of those
forests. Until that time came again, they must learn to live within the
protective ceramic facsimiles of themselves during the daytime. 
During moonlit nights, between the witching hour and dawn's first
light, they could freely roam about the gardens their ceramic shells
resided in, as well as in any nearby forests.

****