“He’ll see you now.” Aster, the sprite receptionist, peered expectantly at the pink pixie.

Whimsy stood, gathering a collection of loose notes held tightly in her arms. Her iridescent wings fluttered, and worry creased her brow as she entered her boss’ office.

A small, impish man sat behind a desk cluttered with shiny trinkets. He offered the young pixie a wide grin, not altogether comforting. Before sitting, the documents slipped from her grasp — littering the floor.

She flushed a deep fuchsia, scooping the scattered papers. “Whimsy, sir.” He waved a hand dismissively, grunting in reluctant acknowledgment.

“You…wanted to see me?” Dread settled in her stomach, despite knowing exactly why she was in trouble.

“You haven’t met your quota this quarter.”

“But sir!” The tiny pixie pouted. “I brought records from the first quarter. I can show—”

Mr. R held up a hand, silencing her. “I don’t want excuses, Wonky. Wishes are going unclaimed in your region.”

“Whimsy, sir.” Her shoulders slumped.

“You have until sundown to grant three wishes, or you’ll be terminated from the Department of Minor Wishes.”

“Sundown?! But Mr. Rumplestilt—”

“Enough!” the man boomed. He narrowed his gaze at the pixie.

Tears pricked the edges of Whimsy’s eyes. She darted out of his office before he noticed. The door magically slammed behind her, making Whimsy shoot into the air, nearly colliding with the ceiling.

Aster looked at Whimsy with soft eyes, extending a tissue box to her. “Here y’are, dearie.”

Whimsy sniffled, gladly accepting a tissue to dry her face. “There’s no way I can get those wishes by sundown! It’s impossible!” Whimsy wailed, the dam of tears bursting.

“I’m sure there’s something to be done,” Aster said, giving a gentle smile. “Maybe I can help.” Digging through her files, she pulled out a bundle of parchment. “Here, dearie.”

With a shuddering breath, Whimsy took the papers. Scanning them hopefully, she read the wish report about a little girl who’d made dozens of unclaimed wishes. Whimsy beamed, understanding the gift she’d been given.

“Thank you!” Whimsy chimed, tucking the papers into her disheveled stack before flitting toward the portal station. Entering the realm shuttle, Whimsy looked over the document again.

Natalie: Age 7

Unclaimed wishes: candle (1), dandelion (8), eyelash (4), fountain (9), four-leaf clover (1), shooting star (2)

“How can one little girl have so many unclaimed wishes?” Whimsy wondered aloud. It wasn’t unusual for any DMW worker to miss a wish or two, but never so many. Something was off about this case and Whimsy was determined to find out what.

Thinking about it, though, unsettled her. Whimsy didn’t like charging for wishes. She felt icky tricking poor kids with unrelenting musical ear worms or a week’s worth of acne for something like a minor wish. No matter how she denied it, Whimsy didn’t have the trickster streak.

“Arriving! Mortal Realm - NYC!”

“That’s me!” Whimsy flitted off the train. Summoning her star-topped wand, she tapped it on the report. Silky, iridescent ribbons rippled in the air, sending sparkling dust from the paper. It formed a path, shooting down a bustling city street.

This is my chance! I just need to find Natalie and grant her wishes. Easy-peasy… uh… I feel queasy.

Whimsy stopped in the middle of the busy sidewalk. Even being invisible to the adults walking around her, she still felt the stiff breeze as they rushed past her tiny form, pushing her in their wake. The back-and-forth motion did nothing to help her unsettled stomach.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Whimsy flitted to a nearby windowsill.

“I can’t! I just wish it was easier,” a young girl echoed, walking past the pixie. Whimsy brightened, hearing the magic word. The glittering trail shifted direction, glowing directly beneath the young girl’s scuffed shoes.

A woman patted the young girl on the shoulder. “Yes, you can, baby. I know being at a new school is hard, but you just need to go out there and start talking to the other kids. You’ll make friends in no time.”

“It’s not that easy, and I’m not a baby.” The young girl huffed, crossing her arms.

“You’re my baby and always will be.”

“Well, maybe if you and daddy—”

“Not that again. Now look, there’s some of your new classmates at the park over there. Why don’t you go play? I’ll sit right here if you need me.” The woman gave her daughter a swift hug before walking toward a row of benches.

Whimsy flew to the tree and before she could introduce herself, she heard soft sniffling coming from Natalie’s curled up form.

“Um…hi. Are you okay?” Whimsy asked.

The girl let out a shuddering sigh, swiping a sleeve across her face. “I’m fine. I just—” Natalie’s brown eyes slid over the pixie and her brows drew up. “Oh, hello. Who are you?” She smiled, weakly.

“Whimsy! You’re Natalie, right?”

“My friends call me Tilly,” the girl started, sadness etching her face again. “Well, they used to.”

Whimsy’s tiny, tender heart broke seeing Natalie’s mood shift. This would normally be the moment she’d grant a minor wish for free just to cheer the girl up. As if on cue, the papers she clutched slowly slid down her torso, threatening to scatter again.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, this?” Whimsy gathered them against her chest. “It’s actually why I’m here. I’ve heard you’ve been wishing a lot lately. I’m here to grant you some wishes!” Whimsy smiled broadly.

Natalie sighed. “You can’t make my wish come true.”

“Try me!”

“Well, I’ve always wanted….” Natalie looked down, picking at her nails.

Whimsy, sensing Natalie’s reluctance, took a seat beside her on a tiny sapling branch. “I’m very good at keeping secrets,” Whimsy assured. “C’mon, what’s your wish?”

Natalie sighed. “I wish I had a baby brother.” She looked up and after seeing Whimsy’s face drop, Natalie amended, “Or sister—I’m not picky.”

“Oh, dear… that’s quite a big wish.”

“I knew it.” Natalie slumped lower.

Whimsy’s wings sagged. The catch rushed to meet her like a spring squall. Natalie’s wishes weren’t minor. Only fae like Blue Fairy or Leprechaun could grant major wishes. But she wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

The pixie looked the young girl over thoughtfully. “Why were you crying just now?”

“I miss my friends back home.”

“Is home far? It looks like you walked here—”

“I mean my real home in Texas,” Natalie sniffled, her emotions bubbling back to the surface. “I thought maybe if I had a brother or sister, they could be my friend.”

“What about those kids over there?” Whimsy offered. “They look nice.”

Natalie shrugged. “It’s… hard to make new friends.” Seeing the pixie was about to argue, she continued, “For me, I mean. I wish it was easy.”

Dang, that’s a major wish too. Truth be told, Whimsy also had a hard time making friends. But then she remembered Aster’s kind gesture earlier in the day with the tissues and the wish report which gave her an idea.

“Maybe you can wish for something to give them as a gift?” Whimsy offered hopefully.

“I don’t know what they like,” Natalie quickly countered.

“Well, do you want something for yourself—maybe a new doll or fun shoes?”

Natalie shook her head. “My birthday’s coming up, and if I’m good, Mama gets me something I’ve been wanting.”

Whimsy needed to think outside of the box. “Oh! What about a minor boost of confidence? A good hair day?”

Natalie paused, considering. “It’s no use. I’d make a good first impression just to ruin it later.”

“You don’t know that! Maybe that’s all you need.”

“All I need is to go back home.” Natalie tucked her face back into her arms.

Something about that sentiment struck a chord with Whimsy. She too wanted to escape her current predicament. Mr. R., even though she’d worked in the DMW for several decades, could never bother remembering her name.

Irony at its finest. A fae who makes other people guess his name can’t be bothered to remember anyone else's. 

The two sat in silence for several minutes, deep in thought. Whimsy watched the sun continue its descent toward the horizon, all too aware of her encroaching deadline. Looking around, all the other kids left the park. Only she and Natalie remained.

“Baby, time to head home,” Natalie’s mom called.

Natalie stood, brushing bits of grass from her pants. “It was nice meeting you, Whimsy. Thanks for being my friend. Even for just a little while.”

At Natalie’s sad goodbye, an idea floated to the surface of Whimsy’s mind like a delicate soap bubble. The thought of being doomed to face the wrath of Mr. R, having failed her job, and how she desperately wanted to make little Natalie happy felt connected. What could she do? 

Pop! The idea bubble burst into a fantastical epiphany. Whimsy perked up, wings fluttering excitedly. “That’s it!” she beamed. “I think I know how we can both get our wishes.”

“Make any new friends today, kiddo?” Natalie’s dad asked between bites of dinner.

For the first time in a long time, Natalie smiled in response. “I did! She’s new, too!” Natalie shot a quick glance at Whimsy, sitting in the seemingly empty seat at their table.