cy mba l s
2 021 : met hod a nd mad nes s
How to Build a Fairy House Teeter-totter run out to the backyard. Feet smoosh grass, toes weave between it. Your mom says be careful don’t step on the dog poop. Or the sticks. Or the pinecones. Get faster bigger steps down the hill. Run out to the old dying tree in the backyard, where the mushy bark will tower far over your soft head. Softwet grassmud underneath your feet. You can look around the sides of the too-big-to-hug-around trunk, but you should already know what side you want to build on. Find the hollow nook on the side facing the fence, the field, the mopey excuse for a garden–some sad, squishy tomatoes and funny shaped cucumber–surrounded by rectangle stones. There’s an even-enough floor on the nook’s base. Perfect for a room. You should get your supplies. Sticks. Moss. Flowers, the yellow ones. The pink ones. Some leaves, but not the dry ones. But you can’t rush too much. Have to clean the dirt off the floor first. Lay the long thin pencil sticks above the floor. A roof. Build the inside. You did that backwards. Take the roof off start over. Leaves on the floor. Carpet. Soft enough for feet. Moss in the corner. It makes a good bed. A good bed is important. You put it in the corner. You like your bed in your room because it’s comfy and in the corner. But you like the makeshift bed your parents make for you with pillows at the end of their bed for when you have nightmares better. Sticks on the sides. Security and shelter, from the cold and the wind and the rain. Now back to the sticks on top roof. Lay them across. No this way. Leaves on top, no rain gets in. Can’t let the water dampen their wings. Now it has to look pretty. Flowers on the sides. Flowers on top. Front. Some inside too, just for decoration. Some petals—what do they eat?—for the floor. Need stairs to get up. No, they fly. - MacKenzie Mazzarisi, XII: short story
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