Miracle On A Hill

Image source: PxHere

It was a sunny day with clear skies. Harriet, led by her mother slowly made her way up the hill as she used her palm of her right hand to caress the top of the flowers. They were soft to her touch and warm to her heart.

“Mummy, can we take some flowers to Daddy?” Little Harriet asked, her right hand already severing a sprout from its branch. Her mother, engrossed in her phone call, could only spare a moment to reply, “Not now Harriet!” Well, Harriet already had one in her hand. She dipped it into her pocket and returned to feeling the flowers.

Harriet was gradually getting bored of the long walk. She heard a butterfly flutter by and silently wished she was in the comfort of her family garden where she could chase as many butterflies as she wanted to. Now, all she could so was sniff the flowers as they walked to the hill to meet her father. Her parents could have easily had one of the house servants carry her up but she insisted on walking. Well, if she was going to walk this long, she was going to make it worth it.

She reach her hand again and plucked a bunch of flowers that enamoured her with their fragrance. She dropped those into her pocket and then grabbed another set. It was then she heard someone scream, “Hey, let me down!”

Harriet turned her neck this way and that, wondering where the sound had come from. Her instinct told her to quickly shove the flowers into her already bulging pocket lest someone was trying to relieve her of her flowers but that didn’t happen as the creature wasn’t going to give up easily.

“Do you not hear? Drop me at one or else…”

Harriet paused for a moment and tried to trace the voice. It seemed to be coming from her hand. Her hand?

“What are you doing in my hand?” She asked.

“What am I doing? You pick me up and ask what… Argh! Such impenitence!”

“Harriet, who are you talking to” Her mother turned to look at her, with her left palm over the microphone in her gold plated iPhone X.

“There is someone in my hand Mummy” Harriet announced apologetically.

“What nonsense, it’s all flowers. Are you hearing voices again?”

“No! It’s…”

“Let go of the flowers this instance,” came the order as her mother turned to the phone and continue the walk up the hill. Harriet, turned briefly to her mother and then tried to shove the flowers into her pocket.

“Aright little girl, what if I give you three wishes, will you let me go?” The creature whispered

“Are you Santa Claus?”

“No. Just make your wishes…”

“Okay, I want to know who you are…”

“I’ll take that as your first wish. I’m Martiller, the best Leprechaun cobbler alive.”

“What is a Leprechaun?”

“Argh! Aright, that's a second wish.” Martiller snapped his fingers and Harriet exclaimed, “Aha!” as the knowledge of what a Leprechaun was filled her brain.”

“Aright, the third one.”

Harriet paused for a while and thought. “Can I see you?”

“What do you mean by ‘can I…’ Use your eyes. Wait! You can’t…”

“I can’t what?”

Perhaps for the first time in the history of Leprechauns, Martiller felt a sole tear roll down his face. He hugged a side of Harriet's palm and performed a Ritalala. Harriet suddenly could see. But when she turned to her hand, she saw only flowers with shiny dust sprinkled around it.

The end

Fun fact (only applies to this story): A RITALALA is magical move where a Leprechaun sacrifices himself to perform an impossible magic. Magical acts like returning body parts require a RITALALA.

This is my entry for the @mctiller's July 10 Twenty-four hour short story contest