Art by Kohlwin |
“A broom? I’m not your maid.”
I looked from the woman to the implement in my hands and then back again. She didn’t seem to notice my incomprehension.
“But it’s a gift?” I tried.
“Are you telling me my house is dirty?” she spat
“No, no,” I fumbled. “It’s… I thought you used them to fly.”
“Oh, are you telling me to get the fuck out then?” Well maybe I will. Maybe I’ll just pack up all my dirty, unwanted potions and leave this shit little town to wallow in its mediocrity.”
“No, I-” I started
“I don’t want to hear it, you little shit. And here I thought you were being a helping hand. But no, you’re just like all the others. Always in need of something or other without offering anything in return.”
“I don’t want anything?” I tried.
“Then what do you want?”
“I, uh,” I paused. “I want to say thank you?”
“Oh?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Ever since you came to town everything has been a lot better. Fewer illnesses. You fixed Jim’s broken arm. Our crops have grown faster and have been more plentiful.”
“Yes, yes. And what?”
“So we made you this as a gift - it’s not much, but we carved all our names on it and tried to make it as nice as we can make a broom.”
“Well, we noticed you didn’t fly a whole lot and figured maybe you needed a broom or something.” I explained.
“Well, in that case, I’ll take it. Hand it to me.”
I obeyed.
She looked it over for a good moment.
“Now where am I supposed to put this?”