Over two millennia in the making.
No one on Earth believed in fairies anymore. Save innocent children. And in the grand scheme, maybe a few skinheaded homophobes. But that was the very point.
The time to end this very human emotion was long overdue.
The fairies had done an outstanding job of staying undetected. Each and every single one of trillions, morphed into a floating speck of dust to the human eye.
Recent meetings had been heated. The inner circle wanted the job doing on the 24th of December. After all, it was a gift from them to mankind. The more radical element argued it was nothing to do with Christmas. So a compromise was agreed to follow the Spanish tradition and carry out their mission on the night of The Three Kings. And despite being a gift, the fairies were still taking something away.
One solitary, four letter word.
Two thousand years of planning. They’d all agreed they were probably only two-thirds of the way into the perfect plan, but the events between 1939 and 1945 created a more immediate deadline.
And trial runs had gone as well as could be expected. Whether labouring ink technicians or artisans of the subconscious, it was amazing to think the proboscis of the fairy, no larger than a couple of atoms, would prove to be the biggest ever asset to man.
And so it was on the night of January 5th, 2011, the fairies set about their mission.
However many dictionaries they converted, the ‘A’ always stubbornly relented.
And the ‘H’ proved hardest to siphon from brains.
The ‘E’ was not surprising; complex to extract from the subconscious.
Even the ‘T’ proved intricate; hard to suck permanently from the memory.
But the many trillions of fairies who cooperated around the world that night agreed, it was a successful sortie.
Only time would tell how well mankind would react to this brave new world.
After the dust had settled, of course.
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