Like Magic (short story) by Leanne Dyck

I have many happy memories of caring for children in daycare centres. One of these memories inspired me to write this short story...

Like Magic

(revisions made in 2020)

It was a crisp, cool, sunny, day in mid-March. My shift at the Sun-time Day Care was winding down. I'd bundled up the kids and we were outside playing. I knew the parents would be thankful that they wouldn't have to struggle with jacket zippers, mittens, and toques. Soon only one child remained. I held the swing so Alison could climb on and sail into the cloudless blue sky. Instead of asking the question that was on the tip of my tongue--where is your mother, she asked,  "Do you believe in Leprechauns?"

Saint Patrick's Day was that week's theme. "Oh, yes, of course. A friend of mine is a Leprechaun."

Her eyes widened. "What's his name?"

"Michael O'Neal. He's the king of the Leprechauns."

"What does he look like?"

"His clothes are green, his long beard red, his leather boots black and he's as big as a minute." I measured his height with my thumb and index finger.

"Really?"

I nodded. "You know sometimes he plays tricks on me."

"What kind of tricks?"

"He's so silly. He hides things." She giggled and I continued. "I set down my pen, my brush, or my glass and then puff--like magic--it's gone."

"Gone. Forever?"

"No, he usually returns what he's taken. Leaving them in unusual places, my glass in my bedroom, my pen in the fridge."

"What does he like to eat?"

"Anything green--cucumbers, broccoli, peas, green beans."

"Hey, I like peas."

"Maybe you're a Leprechaun."

"No." She laughed. "What else does he like to do?"

"He sits on my shoulder and tells me tall tales about his long journeys to the end of the rainbow and his pot of gold."

"He's rich?"

"Oh, yes, all Leprechauns are."

"I'd like to meet a Leprechaun."

"Someday maybe you will." The iron gate made a clicking sound. I turned to look. "Hey, who's here?" I slowed the swing.

Alison planted her feet on the ground. "Mom!" She sang with irrepressible joy and bounced into her mom's arms. Then, like magic, Alison was gone.

Like Magic 

New work from my favourite poet

The spring in trees is to my mind

So full of colors too much to find

A name for each and every one

As in rainbows after rain in sun

by Byron Dyck (my husband)

Sharing my author journey

Well, it was a valiant effort. But alas I fell victim to the lure of buried treasure. These treasures were vaguely remembered stories. Stories I'd written years, months, weeks ago. So I did work on revisions. But the work was a little less directed and more widespread then I'd wished. Ah, well, at least I had fun. And that's important. Right? : )

But, on the plus side, I did...

submit one novella last week to a book publisher

and I have...

sent two submissions away today (regarding a novel) to two book publishers as well as one submission to a literary contest. Busy day.
And I didn't win the Prism International 2014 Short Fiction contest.
But I'm interested in submitting more of my writing to Prism. In fact, that's where I'm heading right now...