Sharp Edges

The Places I've Gone

With all the places I've gone (102 to be exact,) you'd think my Real would he in 1/102 places.

No such luck.

Standing at the top of European mountains? He's not there.

Niagara Falls? Nope.

London, England?

Australia?

South America?

Ha. Wrong.

My heart heavy, I approached the woman at the Passport Counter.

"Name, please?" She asked.

" Fae Briquelle."

"Age?"

"19."

"Home?"

"Nowhere."

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I sucked in the spicy air, tossing my black hair behind me. Mexican words floated down like confetti - well, there was real confetti too. The air, like I said before, smelled peculiarly like taco sauce. Extravagant flowers grew everywhere, as common as dandelions. I pulled my camera out of his case and knelt next to a small, bright yellow flower.

A little girl ran up to me, her long, homemade dress flying. Her tiny baby teeth shone against her tan skin and dark hair. Her brown eyes gleamed like stones in a river.

"What is that?" She asked with a slight hint of mexican tongue, pointing a chubby finger towards my camera.

"I see tourists with them a lot, but I don't know what it is!" She giggled.

I smiled. "This is a camera. It takes pictures. Like this one, see?" I held up the camera so she could see the flower on the screen.

The little girl clapped in delight. "Oh, pretty! Are you a wizard?"

"No....I wish. But you can take pictures, too!" I helped the strap around her head and put my hands on her hands, showing her where to click.

"Okay, now what do you want to take a picture of?" I asked.

"You!" She exclaimed. "Your a pretty wizard!"

I blushed. Silly Fae. Don't blush at little girl's comments.

"O-okay." I said quietly. She aimed the camera towards me and clicked. She smiled at her photo. "Now I'm a wizard too!" She hugged me. I took Sigma back, and took a picture of her. Then, she ran off to tell her Father she was a wizard.