The Window Wiper Fairy doesn’t wipe windows because of fairy altruism. She wipes them because she is stuck to them. And how she got to be there nobody knows. It just so happened that one day the building’s windows were bare all except for dirt, and the next, they were bare all except for a pink-haired fairy.
People who see the fairy have stopped paying her mind. Perhaps, for a few seconds, they’ll stare as she flaps her glittery butterfly wings and beats them against the glass. Then, they’ll revel in the sight of a window so clean and shiny it reflects like a mirror. But in the end, they simply turn their heads and forget that she’s there.
Even those within the office on which’s window the fairy hangs from, have moved on from the novelty of her presence. She’s simply one spot where sunlight doesn’t enter. She’s as mundane as a hunted deer head perched above a hearth.
However, there is one who is rattled by the fairy’s presence.
Every morning, Jodie comes to work with a stronger coffee than the day before hoping she’ll wake up from her strange dream. She sits at her desk and sighs disappointedly because it’s still dark. She glances hesitantly to her right— and low and behold, the pink-haired, glitter-winged fairy remains.
She tries to ignore the fairy’s presence because everyone else does. And she’s too new to the workplace to ask for another desk. No, every day, Jodie spends the rest of her time in silence, thoughts always fluttering back to the fairy on the window.
It’s even worse for Jodie when the fairy begins her daily routine of batting wings to wipe windows clean. Jodie feels as if she’s sitting next to a prepubescent tornado.
One day, Jodie finally musters up the courage to talk to the fairy. She knocks on the glass over the small of the fairy’s back and the crease between her wings.
Thump. Wings hit the window, Jodie almost jolted back.
“Um, hello Fairy.”
Thump. Thump.
“Do you need to get down from there?”
Thump.
“Uh, beat once for yes and twice for no.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Well, what is she supposed to do with that?
“Just once or twice, please.”
Again, the fairy flaps three times.
“What does thrice mean? Do you not understand what I’m saying?”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Jodie grows frustrated. She bangs her fist hard against the glass where she’d knocked before. The fairy retaliates with four flaps this time, each more forceful than the last. And Jodie hits back.
The two continue with their sharing of blows until Jodie takes a break as her skin turns cherry red. She takes a step back to look for the cool steel of her water bottle, hoping that will soothe her aching fist. But the moment she turns away from the fairy, it slams its wings so hard the window shatters and blows into the office. And Jodie falls to the floor from the force of it all.
“Jodie.”
Jodie lifts her head to the furious visage of her boss.
“You’re fired.”
“But, it was the fairy—”
When Jodie points back to the now disintegrated window there no longer is the Window Wiper Fairy. Just the open blue sky flooding her desk with brightness once again.
END
