As a faerie, barely three inches tall, she was used to being overlooked, and even belittled.
With faeries such a rarity in today's world, most people had forgotten about the wild magics faeries could wield, and thus they had stopped fearing them.
But she hadn't forgotten. And every snide remark, every instance of being ignored, she felt the magic ripple closer underneath her surface.
Until the last time she had been called "cute". She hated the word with every fiber of her being, but not as much as she hated herself for losing control and turning the offending human into a tree.
Of course she knew the counter spell, but that would just mean that the human could start talking again.
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Tiny Stories Part 2
Historia CortaMy second collection of microfiction, sometimes dealing with the mundane, but mostly dealing with the magical. Unlike the first collection, the stories in this one are based on inktober prompts.
