How the Cookie Crumbles

Life and scribbles on the far side of SIXTY-FIVE

#BlogBattle 4 – Prompt: Iridescent


Find the Rules at Rachael Ritchie’s blog:

Genre:  Fairy Tale

Prompt:  Iridescent

Words: 990

Oliver Goldglimmer

Flapping knobby hands, she coughed and sputtered. The air cleared of sooty smoke, Olive Goldglimmer blinked at her surroundings. “Oh, that hurts.” She rubbed her tender tailbone. “Might I not have a soft landing once in a while?” A vigorous chorus of robins overhead drowned out her words. “I’m talking to myself again, aren’t I?”

Olive studied the multi-hued flowers above her. “So sorry. I didn’t mean to crash into you, pretties.” Feet straight out in front of her, she slumped over her knees to relieve pressure from her battered vertebrae. “Where the heck am I? I’ve never been here before.” Rubbing a cheek, she further smeared her soot-sprinkled face. “Have I?”

A fleeting thought occurred to her. Finger pointed in the air to hook it, her eyes bugged out at the sight of the string tied there. “What’s that for? Let’s see, I-I-I… Can’t remember. Can’t do spells. Can’t fly… Might as well die.”

“Divine colors, these flowers.” Fingers reached upward to stroke the velvet stalks and feathery softness within her reach. My home is in grazing fields filled with red clover, yellow buttercups, and lush grass for those big animals—cows, I think. Sorry, I’ve squashed a few of you. I better get off, hadn’t I? Dear, dear.”


Olive rolled her squat six-inch body from one side to the other, pushing off with an elbow. “I did not forget how to stand. Been doing it all my life, haven’t I? Come on-n. I can do this. Come on-n.” The rolling motion found her face in the dirt. She giggled. Her knees knew what to do. A push with her hands and she tripped over her long, shimmering gown. “Dear, dear. The young fairies have the right idea with their short skirts. Not appropriate on someone of my age.” Erect at last, she swayed to steady her balance. Her gray-streaked hair, once cranberry, had fallen out of its pins. Tiny fingers hastened to secure it back together and out of her face. “I must look a sight. Still talking to myself. Well, so what.”

“Sorry flowers. I didn’t mean to crush you.” Lined face softened, she blew a kiss, one foot already poised to toddle through the forest of blossoms. Home. What if I’m lost for good this time? A flicker of brilliance in the crushed greenery attracted her attention. “Oh, dear. Oh, dear. My pouch of found and rescued treasures.” She flushed with guilt and pleasure, the pouch clutched to her ample bosom.

“I remember—I cast a spell… What was it? I had it… Oh, dear. Oh, dear.” Oh, for Petey dragon, never mind. It’ll be a long walk home.”

Olive trudged and trudged. The sun slid toward the bruised horizon like a raw yoke on a fingerprinted wall. The temperature cooled. Birds chirped less, weary from their daylong concert. Floral smells scented the air. Olive pushed on in a never-ending field with not a creature in sight.

Someone or something whistled, drawing to her. The sound pierced her ears. A teenage boy, she guessed, in torn pants and a faded plaid shirt, repositioned his straw hat. A blade of grass in his corner of his mouth, he looked neither left nor right.

She flew into his face and tumbled earthward. “Yoo-hoo. Ouch.”

He brushed at his face as if flicking off a fly.

“Hey, you. You, Tom Sawyer person, you. Stop!” Olive skipped behind him to catch up. That’s when it hit her. “He can’t see me.” In desperation, she grasped a pant leg and hung on. Swish-toss. Slam. When had he stopped?

He growled, combing his surroundings. “Who’s there? Where are you?”

“Down here. They call me Olive. I’m lost.” Olive pulled with all her strength till she found his shirt pocket.

“I don’t know what or where you are but get away from me.” He switched the stalk of grass to the other side of his mouth and tramped on. Dusk drifted downwards like a gray fog, stealing the little light left. The moon rose cheesy yellow, face in a smirk as if It had heard a bad joke. A stone’s throw away, a dark shack surfaced out of the ground.

Olive sensed rather than saw her aura light up a hair-thin stroke at a time. It must be the last day of harvest because this happened the same time last year. Her heart swelled with dizzy exhilaration, knees weak and bendy. All her magic had not vanished—not yet—though her ability had lessened. She had not minded ageing, nor the forgetfulness, nor the loss of vitality—well, a little. Losing her spark, her zest for life had caused sadness, yet she understood the map of life.


She shook off her reverie. The boy approached the cabin. In her excitement, Olive fell out, arms waving, wings fluttering. Up. Down. She floated. “Wait, wait.”

Hand on the doorknob, the boy dropped his chin, paused, and turned to the darkness fully arrived. A crazed yell tore out of his throat. He yanked open the door and slammed inside. Up-down, Olive floated, a streak of vacillating glow like a light posse.

The door squeaked open. A rifle barrel preceeded the boy. “Stop. What are you?”

Olive reared up and flew into his face. “Don’t shoot. Let me explain.”

* * *

The boy had listened and nodded.

“I live in a place called Aurora. Will you help find it?”

“My pleasure. I know my way around a fairy tale or two. Name’s Tom Sawyer. Pleased to meet you, Olive Goldglimmer.

Maybe for the last time, Olive’s wings opened iridescent and supple as in the days of her youth.

“Come inside. Can’t do anything tonight. Hungry?

“I could eat. Have you nuts or berries?”

“A real fairy. Shoot. Never heard of any your age. Know something? You remind me of my grandma—the one my author wouldn’t give me. Everybody has one, don’t they? Even me.”

The End

© 2017 Tess and How the Cookie Crumbles

Images courtesy of Pixabay

Author: Let's CUT the Crap!

I'm getting a little LONG in the tooth and have things to say about---ouch---AGEing. I believe it's certainly a state of mind but sometimes it's nice to hear that you're NORMAL. I enjoy reading by the truckload. I'm a grandma but I don't feel OLD although I'm not so young anymore. My plan is to stick it out as long as I can on this lovely planet and only will leave it kicking and screaming!

67 thoughts on “#BlogBattle 4 – Prompt: Iridescent

  1. Reblogged this on Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life and commented:
    Time for a fairy story… you are never too old, especially when penned by Tess Karlinski… mee Olive.. who has got lost….


  2. I enjoyed this, Tess. You have a gift with descriptive words. I’ll be back! (Gee, that sounds almost ominous!)


  3. Oh Tess, what a marvelous way to brighten my lunch break. Thank you for this story. The imagery was glorious and I loved the way you ended it. Mega hugs.


  4. Very lovely, Tess. So much fun.


  5. Really liked this and the comment to the flower. It’s clever you brought that in like another character. 🙂


  6. What a lovely, fun story, Tess 🙂 Great name too!


  7. I do love a fairy story and this one was lovely, Tess 🙂


  8. As always a lovely story. Good writing, Tess.x


  9. Absolutely loved every word of this!<3


  10. The imagery was fantastic and fun Tess but how sad that like us age has it’s drawbacks for fairies. And just fancy Mark Twain not giving poor Tom a grandma.
    xxx Huge Hugs xxx


  11. I’m sure Mark Twain is smiling, and now Huckleberry is looking for his grandma. A delightful story, Tess, well done.


  12. What fun! Who knew fairies can be forgetful or old? Very imaginative.


  13. An aging fairy! Endearing and a bit sad at the same time 🙂 Your talent for painting a scene is still wonderfully strong. My favourite line was “The sun slid toward the bruised horizon like a raw yoke on a fingerprinted wall.” Very strong imagery!


  14. What a fantastic story Tess. Loved the vibrance in your words and the storyline. A new great fairytale! 🙂


  15. Gee, Tess, this story nearly parallels my evening summer walks. They stop short of the cabin, though; and Tom Sawyer is usually a neighborhood cat or tree squirrel. But I do lose myself in the flight of reverie and sometimes wonder where I am when I come to. Being drawn in by – even identifying with – characters and occurrences is the mark of a good story. Bet you can’t tell how much I enjoyed this, eh? 🙂 ♥


    • Thank you. Thank you, Tina. I’m blushing from head to toe. I confess I had no idea how or where to start. Write what you know, they say. A lightbulb flashed. I know stout and arthritic. I howled with laughter and there it grew on the page.

      Liked by 1 person

  16. Fabulous fairy tale. Loved Olive but her meeting up with Tom… Just awesome. 💖


    • Thank YOU for reading and your generous comment, Sarah. You know how it is when you don’t know where a character appears from till you see it / them on the page. Yeah, like that. Wish that happened more often. ❤ ❤ ❤


  17. Pingback: #BlogBattle 4: Jan 31st “Iridescent” Entries & Voting | BlogBattle

  18. Wonderfully creative Tess ❤


  19. Tess this is wonderful! I loved the ending. How enchanting that Tom and Olive meet, in a universe that is both familiar to us, but almost unattainable…..unless you really believe in the imagination!!!


  20. What a great ending. Tom Sawyer would be proud, as should Mark Twain. Delightful, Tess.


  21. ah love it; Tom Sawyer saves the day – again. But Olive is a great creation – what do fairy’s do when their time is done, huh?


  22. Now I’m just mad! Why haven’t I been reading your blog sooner? Your gift for story telling is simply fab! Do you have these stories just sitting somewhere just waiting to be published? Olive’s name reminded me of a short story I wrote for Writing 101 and my dwarf’s name in the story was G. Slumberfoot. Read it when you get a chance (It’s nothing like yours, though)


  23. Tess I’m a late arrival but like so many have said this is great fun. Leaves me with a happy heart!


  24. Lovely characters and story. A great meeting that I’m sure Mark Twain would have been happy about. Thanks, Tess!


  25. Love your story telling Tess! Awesome!


  26. You added Tom Sawyer, nice! Love the whimsical fun in this. 🙂


  27. I’ve always wondered what type of fairy tale you’d write. Now I know–as good as all your contemp and travel tales. 🙂


  28. I enjoyed wandering through this, Tess, you took us to magical places, then again, you always are kind enough to take us on your journeys, real or imagined. 🙂