When you’re shopping for groceries, the last thing you expect to see is a piece of paper appear in a floating ball of hell fire. Unless your name is Maeve, apparently.
With an aggravated sigh of long suffering, the faerie plucked the paper from the air, dusted off the ash and looked at what her roommate had written.
‘Dear Maeve,
The silverware is alive! It tried to attack me! I have barricaded myself in the storage cupboard! Also, the figurines have come alive and are rebelling because they want equality or something. Send help!
Your demon roommate,
Diograsach’
“What has that idiot gone and done this time?” Maeve muttered to herself rhetorically, looking at the store in front of her. She sighed and turned on her heel, knowing that she would never hear the end of it if she didn’t get back there soon.
cheshireinunderland 