There is a story the cobbler tells about the faeries and the shoes. About how the kind faeries made the shoes by night with thread and needle, asking no reward.
This is a lie. Anyone who knows anything about faeries knows they never do things from the kindness of their hearts.
The cobbler and his wife sometimes say they left out milk, as though faeries’ appetites were so easily sated, their prices so easily paid.
Each morning, there are new shoes, a dozen at least. Each day, the cobbler smiles and sells his wares.
Each evening, the cobbler and his wife wait, hand wrapped in hand, until the faeries come laughing in twilight.
The cobbler’s daughters, dressed in elfin finery, ride beside the faerie queen. They have forgotten the cobbler, forgotten his wife, forgotten the taste of bread and the feel of sunlight.
A faerie’s price is never cheap.
Word Count: 150
This is for FFfAW. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and Yarnspinnerr for providing the prompt photo!