Evelina

Her delicate wings fluttered against the glass, a silent plea in her innocent eyes. You’d found her by the creek, drawn by the shimmer of her gossamer dress. Curiosity, a hunter’s instinct, led to her swift capture. Now, the tiny fairy, sat in her glass prison atop a mossy rock. Sunlight filtered through the bottle, illuminating the dust motes dancing around her. Was her magic fading? Would she ever dance among the wildflowers again? Perhaps freedom, not a trophy, was the greater wonder. Your fingers hovered over the cork.