“Nice Christmas, Mrs Wilson?”
“I see your girls had a nice time, judging by all the glitter in the street.”
“Don’t! They got all dressed up, put that sparkly makeup stuff on -everywhere - not just in the street, it’s all over the house. Nightmare!”
Chantal, five, feisty and fée, overheard the grown-ups talking - talking nonsense! Glitter!
Hadn’t she seen the fairy with her own eyes, Christmas Eve, gliding on gossamer wings sprinkling stardust, her jewelled slippered feet not touching the ground?
Glitter indeed! Stupid grown-ups.
Author Notes: I saw the glitter, I saw Chantal, I saw the story