Contest: Whimsy Fiction
Word Count: 300 Max
Genre: Whimsy
Written on: August 6th 2026
Prompt: Tagalongs and Stowaways
Unique item: Fuse Box
Place: Did Not Place
The old oak tree looked like a green mammoth sinking into the earth. When my dad was young, lightning struck and broke off two of its large branches. He always said the lightning gave him his powers. I listened from my red wagon as he told the story again. I never minded; I didn’t get to see him often.
“You ready, Bubby?” he said with a smile, placing a fuse box at the base of the tree. “Now, when you see the fairies, don’t look directly at them. You’ve got to be sneaky. Tell me when you see them flitting around the lights and think of where you want to be, okay?”
I nodded enthusiastically as he grabbed the handle of the wagon and positioned himself like an Olympic sprinter—one with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
He counted down, flipping a switch on the fuse box with each number. After the final one, a riot of lights blazed up the oak, more dazzling than any Christmas tree I had ever seen in my seven years of existence—or after, really.
I gripped the sides of the wagon tightly as my father bolted around the tree like a tornado, gaining speed with every lap.
As the lights became streamers, little green shapes flickered within the warm glow.
“Fairies!” I yelled between my giggles as the wagon bounced me around.
My father stopped, and in an instant, the grass and the oak washed away. We were now on a beach with white sand and shallow, light-green water.
“Pig Island?” I squealed more than asked.
He nodded while giving me a smirk that showed more in his eyes.
“I might not fly or be super strong, but I can take you wherever you want to go.”