Felt Like a Bug

I was drifting off to dreamland, so my senses were deadened a bit When a piper full of magic entered the forest for a tiny sit. He took out a flute and began enticing flying things to come by. Glistening, gleaming and sparkling, I opened my eyes with a sigh. They were faeries, pixies, flying miniatures, sweet little creatures. I noticed them vanish, disappear, dissolve, like Saturday movie features. For they had seen me, when I had opened my eyes to see them. A malevolent inky look came from the piper now; his eyes slim. Lanky and lean, he looked at me as if I were corpulent and foul. Taking a hint, I creeped off, because I am an empathetic gal. I have no idea if the pixies and faeries came back to the piper. But I felt like a bug swished off in a car’s window swiper.