dreams of post-surgical faeries

[the_fantastic_ms_fox]

 A path on a dry hill in The Interior, two hours after dusk, in May.

 

I wish the doctor had asked first, made the process clear to me, tried to get my consent, but that's what happens when you go in for surgery - you wake up... different.

 

Making the best of it, I stretch out, tearing slits in my olive tee, billowing diaphanous black wings catching the night breeze. I soar away like a paraglider on an updraft.

 

 

I touch down on a fir and yellowcake hill, folding my new appendages into a rippling black butterfly. 

 

The army is there. For her. The doctor who... "made..." me.

 

They see me as mutilated from or into non-humanity. So they 'expect' my help in catching her.

 

You know, I think of addressing the doctor when I catch her you don't have to do these things to people non-consensually. I come in for a routine procedure and I wake up a giant faerie, sure. Not sure how I feel about that. But there are people who would volunteer, even pay for this.
 

Yes, I will find her.

 

And to that end, invisibility. I have no idea how that got implanted while I was out, but it works. I'm naked of course, and a little cold. No one can see me, and that includes the army can't see me.

 

While I'm visible, my pubic hair matches the wings. I wonder about the ears. Right - those were already pointed. 

 

Now, I will hunt her. Confront her.

 

But I doubt I will aggress upon her, let alone turn her in.