Night Sprites/ Gutter
Dina Kharag (Photo: Kyle Chong)
Red. Orange. Green. Blue. Purple. Pink. Black.
They danced on the floor,
Like a magical starry sky fell
Splattering to the ground.
Their radiant beauty,
Smashed by feet that couldn’t seem to feel their warm glow,
Until they were nothing but celestial dust.
Now turned to dim and dark ashes,
Like asphalt when drenched after a storm.
But,
A shining glimmer of white,
Returned to life after the damage was done.
Bright and delicate,
Beckoning to things far beyond the human eye.
Only small hands and eyes can see and feel this,
That from the tiny helpers of the night:
Night Sprites.
Upon a night spent in a grandfather’s home, a young girl, six years old, stared out through the window, her eyes wide and close to tears. Her eyes were fixed upon a rainbow explosion that descended from her shaking hands. She was holding an empty bottle, recently delivered from its contents.
A cry finally escaped:
“I can’t go to sleep Grandfather! My rainbow glitter just spilled out the window! I need to go get it before the wind blows it all away,” she cried.
With feet as heavy and rough as boulders, the grandfather made his way to the child’s room looked in indignation as he gave her a smile.
“No need to worry, Sophie dear! I know someone who can get it. It shall be there in the morning, I promise. In fact, it will be on the window sill... here.” The grandfather put his worn hand against the flaking paint.
The granddaughter was incredulous.
“How do you know?” Her eyes expanded in curiosity.
The grandfather’s smile swelled like he understood the greatest truth in the world.
“Did you know that when you sleep, that’s the time when the Night Sprites come out?” Sophie’s grandfather said.
“What are Night Sprites? Do they . . . bite?” Sophie responded, warily.
A chuckle bounced through the air and the rough hand landed on soft downy hair.
“No, they don’t bite. Technically, we don't know how they look as they are constantly hiding. Nonetheless, I still know they exist.” The voice answered, deep and worn and gentle.
“Oh, okay.” The girl took the answer without a second thought, sadness for the loss of her glitter muting his now fruitless words.
As the grandfather stroked his granddaughter with a mother’s gentleness, Sophie’s light brown hair changed color in the beams from the lit-up disco ball in the corner of her bedroom. This made her “red” hair waver to orange, green, blue, purple, pink.
Yet once the light was off and the child closed her eyes, it lost all color. In the dark midnight black, the room was surrounded. And alone.
But not for long.
Tiny whispers of hush hush and tiny feet that went brush brush came to life like spring wind. A family of five Night Sprites appeared in the child’s bedroom. Night Sprites are lovers of anything people call “junk,” “useless,” or “wasteful,” especially anything that glows and sparkles. The reason is still unknown.
The mugs, trinkets, and small spoons hanging from their belts clinked as the Night Sprites brushed across the wooden floor of the young child’s room. The youngest Night Sprite was the first to speak, and she did so in a palely wavering voice, “Papa! Mama! Look what I found!”
A flake of glitter from Sophie’s backpack lay on the floor. It called out to the young Night Sprite, like instinct for a child to play.
“Good job Hikari!” The father praised, “Put it in the Gather. We need a lot for tonight.”
With a spiraling feeling of glee like a shooting star, the young Hikari placed the small flake with the thousands more in the Gather.
“Does all this have to be done tonight?”
The father answered, “Yes, it must be done tonight while the Full Moon is out: it’s the only time that we can grab the Glitter from the outside world. You must understand this, Nebah.”
Then all were silent as the bodies flapped their thin moth-like wings, flying to the sleeping child’s window. Upon landing, the father opened the window with the small sharp knife he carried on his belt.
“Okay - Darling goes first.” He called to his wife.
She grabbed his hand as she fluttered into the outside world beyond the window. With her the first step, the night air seized her body, and she threatened to pass out. She looked up at the moon hanging in the sky; it was like a crystal that she wished she could pluck. To every Night Sprite, the moon seemed the greatest Glitter created due to its bright light. She felt the moon bathe her in that light. Her purple hair lightened, and her eyes shone with all the colors of the rainbow. Each of the night sprites underwent this transformation before fluttering to the pavement below.
Outside on the sidewalk, the three child Night Sprites scurried about while the mother and father took their time watching the scene. The children packed the Glitter in handfuls while the parents held their pouches to gather the Glitter, and a feast of Glitter it was!
The wind suddenly grew stronger. It pushed through the small crack in the window and like an envelope under a door, touching the young cheek, waking the girl up. Her eyes fluttered as she rose. She took deep gulps of air as she yawned. She looked around her room for the source of this frigid cold and saw her window was cracked open. With clumsy fingers, she forced the window to close. This done, she drifted off to sleep again.
In the morning, as the sunlight irritated her eyelids, Sophie heaved a great yawn. But the light that blinded her eyes wasn’t just sunlight. Looking to the window again, she saw an object placed on the window sill. The bottle of rainbow glitter was there. She gaped wide and held it in her hands.
“How is this possible?! Did the Night Sprites really do this?”
She sat in wonder.
