Casimir took in the sight of the mobile ink without any surprise at all initially. He had fallen asleep on his desk and he was dreaming, it showed how wasted his mind was becoming that THIS was what he was dreaming of but still. Maybe if all ink had a mind of its own he could get the books to write themselves.
Why was he dreaming that his head still hurt? In fact this did not feel a lot like a dream aside from the strange motion of the ink, the last few drops of which were sliding across his now perfectly clean desk and up the side of the inkwell without any apparent regard for gravity.
Casimir screwed his eyes shut then opened them again. When he looked again the ink was no longer moving but it was undeniably still there.
Had he only dreamed that he had spilled it? But then how had he hurt his head?
Casimir would probably have come up with a plausible explanation eventually but before he got the chance a quiet but insistent tapping made him turn towards the window.
He saw the fairy.
It waved at him.
Plausible explanations fled back into the corners of his mind like startled cats and for the second time in less than ten minutes Casimir jumped up and hit his head on the Chandelier, this time however he paid it no attention, instead rushing over to the window and staring at the tiny girl waving happily to him from the other side of the glass.
__________________
"The great delusion has to end.
Although it's pleasant to pretend
We need to fall from grace.
We need to learn to face life again."
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