Tooth Fairy

(I have always wondered what the Tooth Fairy does with all the teeth s/he collects. Then I wondered why there was a need for such a collection in the first place. Then I remembered Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. Then I said, “oh, right.”)

The child is sleeping lightly, but, no matter – he will not wake while I am here.

I wave my hand, and he floats – blanket, teddy bear, pillow, and all. I see it, then, small and pearly white – a stark contrast to the astronaut sheets.

I pick it up and weigh it in my hand. It is a good one – five dollars would be fair – and before the crisp bills are covered up by the descending child, I am out the window, flying into the night, back to the heart of the world. I smile contentedly.

I have proof. I exist.

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