Hushed stories were told of old Woman Sorrow. No one really understood why she mourned, but she couldn’t keep her grief bottled inside. Waterfalls surged down her cheeks nightly. It was believed she wept silver teardrops which would dry into nuggets. She’d then grind them until they were grains of sparkle, adding them to a glass vase near an open window sill. The glittering flakes would twinkle, a powder of mystery. This attracted the fairies, who would hide within bushes, waiting for nightfall. After the candle was extinguished, via moonlight, pixie shadows could be seen dusting their wings with magic.
100 words / for Challenge Fiction 100 words or less using photo / Friday Fictioneers