Fresh Out of Fairy Dust

The problem was I was fresh out of fairy dust.

The woman in the doorway was my height – barely five feet – and about the same from side to side. She shifted her considerable bulk to give me a decaying smile and took a step toward me, hauling her little two wheel wire grocery cart behind her.  I was so startled, she almost got past me but then I recovered enough to ask if I could help her.

Wanbemodel, she slurred at me through a whiskey haze, Plussize.

I blocked her way and she glared.

Lemme in, she muttered.

Don’t think so, I said firmly, we don’t have anything for you.

All three dogs suddenly came tearing down the stairs behind me.  The noise was deafening.

Shall I let them out? I asked.

Bitcsh! she spit-lisped at me and waddled off toward the open gate.

Clearly, the solution is a new supply of fairy dust.

It would grant every wish and answer every prayer, heal everyone in ill health, protect all homeless and abused animals, resolve hostilities world-wide, detoxify our food and water supply, neutralize stupidity and racism and make short,fat women fashion ready runway models.  We would just need to keep it out of the hands of politicians, the obscene big banks, all health insurance companies, the medical industry and the religious zealots.

Yep, I’ll get right on that.

Power to the People.