Dont Drop Him

I was holding onto baby faerie by his brittle little wing. He weighed less than a loaf of bread, this cute little thing. I heard his tiny voice as he began a melodic little sing. No one else heard it, but it had a catchy zing. Don’t drop him! Other faeries were ordering me about. As if I would have let that baby faerie fall – why would they doubt? Insulted, I put up my nose, showing them an impudent pout. “Don’t drop him!” a grasshopper yelled. This time it was a shout.