Page 11
Story: It's A Little Bit Bunny
“Can I ask you something?”
“Uh, yes, of course.” I hoped my thoughts hadn’t shown on my face.
“What do you do? Are you living off-grid here? Or homesteading?”
Oh.
I needed more time to think so I picked up my cup and drank from my coffee. What good would it do if I lied to him?
Nothing, I decided.
“Well, a bit of both. This house is not hooked up to the grid in any way.”
Electricity doesn’t work too well around my magic.
“Yeah, I noticed that I didn’t get any signal before my battery died. So no computer, no internet? Nothing?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘nothing’. I simply don’t need or use technology.”
“Indoor plumbing, though.”
Nikolai gave me a cheeky grin across the table. He looked like a piece of art the way he lounged on his chair with one leg propped up on the seat, his arm slung around the knee.
“Invention of the century.”
He coughed.
“As you might have noticed, I am ageless,” I said before I could think it through again. A part of me wanted him to know what I was. Maybe to drive him away from me? “I’m of Elven blood.”
Save yourself while you can. Don’t let the Höimann get you.
“I had an idea, yeah. The clean and dry clothes and you heating food without a fire were a bit of a giveaway.”
“You’re not scared?”
He cocked a dark blond eyebrow at me. “Should I be?”
“No,” I huffed. “I would never harm you.”
Flustered Nikolai was a beautiful sight. The bridge of his nose reddened, and he fiddled with his T-shirt, smoothing it out and plastering the fabric to his chest repeatedly.
“So, you are magical? And you are old, and live here in your enchanted castle in the woods with your Wolpertinger,” he summed up what I had told him. “What do you do all day besides making jam and cooking for lost wanderers?”
You are the first one I brought back here.
“I collect and grow food. I brew and distill. I occasionally spin and weave, tan leather, and sew clothes. I go hunting and fishing and take care of my forest. And I read, draw, and paint,” I told him, ticking them all off on my fingers.
“Wow, that sounds pretty amazing.”
“I like my life.” He returned my smile. “What about you? What do you do day in and day out?”
“I play hockey for a living.”
In the hundred years since hockey had been established, I had never once seen a game. All I knew was that they wore ice skates and had sticks to hit a little rubber disk back and forth.
“Sounds a lot less impressive compared to what you get up to.”
“No, it doesn’t. I just don’t know or understand much about it,” I said in a low voice.
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