The fairy, Teacup, was not happy. She had been caught once again, in a fairy lamp and this was not something to be proud of.

Hamish, the Fairy Collector, would be around later in the morning to collect the fairies he had managed to snare and add them to his collection of caught fairies.

There was a chance of escape as Hamish was not as agile as he once was, was also a little vacant in the head and often left his fairy cage, which he dragged around an old cart, open while he busied himself checking on his lamps.

Teacup spent most of her time admonishing herself for being taken in by the light in the lamp. Fairies loved a bright light; they were attracted to it, a bit like an insect is. Teacup had been flitting about minding her own business when she came across the light and thinking it may have been a source of fairy energy ventured in too far and found herself captured.

How many times had her mother warned her about pursuing her own vanity? This wasn’t the first time, though Teacup was convincing herself it would be the last.

As the night receded and the dawn awakened, the light faded until all there was inside was an unhappy fairy awaiting collection.

Then Hamish turned up and as Teacup had been a previous victim Hamish despite his doddering mind recalled the spirited young fairy. He delighted in his catch and whistling to himself he grabbed her and stuffed her into his cage. At the next lamp there were two fairies inside looking glummer than Teacup. As Hamish could only handle one fairy at a time, he left the door open, and that was Teacup’s opportunity to get away, which she did.

Thankfully Hamish’s absent-mindedness meant he didn’t count the fairies in his cage as he went along and it wasn’t until he was back at his house that he realised he was short a fairy or two.

In the meantime, Teacup flew back to her fairy lodgings and vowed never to fall for the trap of a bright light again. In her kitchen, she could hear her mother rattling the teacups and upon entering the kitchen saw her mother pouring two cups and as there was only she and her mother living there assumed the second cup was for her.

“A little adventure again tonight my dear?” asked her mother as she pushed a cup of steaming tea in front of Teacup, “you won’t always be so lucky you know.”

Written for: https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/03/07/genre-challenge-4/