Korea, Republic of

My favorite animal is a dragon and that's kind of a decent summary of my personality.

Message to Readers

I would like the kind of feedback that tells me whether or not the moral of the story is visible and if the flow of the story is interesting enough.

Glittering Wings

September 14, 2018

It was the kind of day when mom makes us bathe in a whole bottle of sunscreen. But that did not stop us from going to the Fairy Stream after lunch. I was so excited I could barely eat my kebab sandwich.
I’ve been dreaming about the Fairy Stream ever since mom announced we were going on vacation, so it has been a whole two-week daydream I had in my head. I knew exactly what the Fairy Stream was going to be like. It was going to be hidden in a thick tropical forest, and we would have to weave our way through the wild trees. Then when I remove the last gigantic leaf, it would be like walking into a fairytale. The stream was going to be filled with crystal clear water with little fish and mystical flowers. I didn’t even look up the place, because movies are not the only things ruined by spoilers.
We nearly called it a day because the so-called entrance was nearly invisible. It was a small, handwritten sign on the side of the road among the crowded shops. There wasn’t even a proper staircase as we slid our feet down into a muddy stream that looked like coffee with too much milk. After putting on an extra coat of sunscreen, we set off on our journey to find the lost land of fairies.
As we padded our way through the muddy water, we were surrounded by magnificent cliffs of sand rocks. They had red, white and grey layers, creating a scene that almost looked like a mini-sized Grand Canyon. But I cared less about them than I normally would have because I was mostly focused on the water. I believed with all my heart that this muddy stream was at some point going to turn clear, and I would know that the Fairy Stream was close.
We walked and walked for more than an hour. But the stream stayed as muddy as ever. Soon, we came to a dead end.
The water was not crystal blue and there were plastic bottles poking out here and there instead of fish. It looked like an ordinary puddle after the rain. I was more disappointed than I intended to be. Even though I logically knew that fairies didn’t exist, I had secretly hoped that this place would look like they did. It was like finding out Santa wasn’t real all over again.
Then we spotted something that made our eyes the size of tennis balls. There were bushes of four-leaf clovers lining the edges of the stream. It was not the four-leaf clover found once in a lifetime. There were hundreds, if not thousands of luck scattered inches from our toes. I later found out that they were a totally different type of plant, but as soon as I saw them, I knew that it was the fairies who planted the magical ‘clovers’ around the stream. I knew that fairies didn’t have to live in dolled up streams to prove they existed. They were already living in the beautiful rock cliffs, in the softness of the mud beneath our feet, and in our happy giggles and laughter as we posed for pictures. They lived in the moment itself, as we stood there, filled with wonder. The Fairy Stream was not somewhere we had to get to – we were already there the whole time.
As we turned back, I thought I could hear the faint tinkling of fairies echoing in my ear.


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