The Commission, a short story
The pixie was sitting on my phone when I woke up. Now, here's the thing. I'm blind, so it's not as if I just rolled over and saw her. That would have been less startling. No. I rolled over and groped for the smart phone so I could check the time. "Hey! Watch it, lady." The voice was high and fluting, but not childlike at all. I've heard writers talk about bells when they describe that sort of voice, and that tracks, so long as you're talking about one of those tiny bells. I didn't so much yelp as make a groggy-sounding mumble of confusion, and patted absently at my phone, wondering if I had somehow touched something on the screen that was playing some weird sound clip. "I said to watch it," the little voice complained, and I felt something small slapping at my fingers, followed by a buzzing sound, like an enormous fly or tiny hummingbird had gotten into the room. "What the hell?" I asked, oh-so-int...