I visit Sigrid’s apartment with a plate of sugar cookies, store bought because I haven’t yet learned how to bake. She opens the door in a cloud of gold hair and vanilla-scented perfume. In a day or two she’s taking down her fairy Christmas tree, and invited me to see it.
It’s decorated with fairy figurines she made herself.
Night Bright Fairy: Wears silver robes with long belled sleeves and silver glitter in her waist-length hair. Her wings are dappled with silver stars.
Sankta Lucia Fairy (a.k.a The Winged Swede): Wears a white gown and a wreath of candles in her flaxen hair. Crimson runs through her wings.
Broken Fairy Afoot: Only wing stumps for this one. She climbs off the tree at night and defends the home on foot, tiptoeing into the dark shadows where dust and dreams lie, or where a child might be curled up trying to remain unseen.
Wassail Fairy: Apple-cheeked with auburn hair in a bun. Holds a gold cup filled to the brim. Wings are askew.
Fairy of Belled Toes: Wears curly elven shoes with bells on the tips. Has scrawny striped legs that flop about and make the bells jingle. Her wings jitter with nervous energy.
Art Muse Fairy: Wears a colorful, splattered t-shirt. Wings are tie-dyed.
Empath Fairy: There’s a crack running through her head, a hole in her chest, a look of pain and wonder on her face. She has webby wings.
Fairy of Graceful Aging: Silver hair, blue tunic, pink leggings, a starry scarf, and a smatter of gold stars on her wings.