I got a great suprise for my b-day from Clair M. Carterer

a birthday message from Claire M. Caterer

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Sarit!   I have a brand new Happy Birthday gift for you to say thanks for subscribing to Claire's News. I hope your birthday is filled with just the sort of joy you treasure, whether that's quiet and restful or noisy and party-ful. Don't forget to treat yourself to some birthday fun.This is YOUR day. So celebrate it! Here's my little gift to you: Click below for a short but magical tale I've written starring ... YOU! HAVE A FANTASTIC BIRTHDAY! Cheers, Claire The Epic Tale of Sarit and the Sea Hag As birthdays go, this one had not been Sarit’s finest. Not only had she stubbed her toe very hard that morning, but she had found her favorite shirt wadded up under her bed, where something had chewed on it rather thoroughly. To top it off, she’d lost her birthday cupcake. It was her favorite flavor, with just the right amount of frosting, and she’d been counting on it all day. But just as she was about to take a bite, it had slipped from her hands and fallen onto a grimy sewer grate. For she had decided to eat it outdoors. And so it was that she found herself wandering through a damp, boggy part of the woods not far from home. It was a path she had taken many times before, but after a few paces she began to think she was lost. She didn’t recall this boulder nor that hazelnut tree, and in fact none of the trees looked familiar. This alarmed her a bit, but usually she tried to think first and panic later. She knew she would find her way home eventually. Just as she had decided this, she climbed over a short hill and discovered an eagerly rushing stream. When she bent down to dip her fingers into the water, a head popped out of the current. Sarit jumped back. A pair of shoulders followed the head, and then a squat, blobby body flopped onto the bank. The thing—a person?—stood up on two stumpy legs and shook the reeds out of her hair. Sarit, being exceptionally polite except when it wasn’t called for, wrinkled her nose and avoided mentioning aloud how foul the froggy thing smelled, like algae gone bad. The creature gathered her skirt into a big handful and wrung it out. A small carp flopped out from beneath it and she nudged it into the water with one gray toe. “Howdy-do,” she said at last. “I’m Nerys. Sea hag.” “Er, nice to meet you,” said Sarit. “I’m—” “Oh, never mind, dearie, I know all about you,” said the sea hag, plopping herself down on a log. “You’re Sarit. I only come to shore for birthdays, don’t you know. And it’s yours today.” Sarit sat down on a nearby tree stump, a bit upwind of the sea hag. “That’s right.” “And ye’ve gone and got yerself lost, haven’t ye?” “Well—” “That’s my doing,” said Nerys, smiling wide. “Yer welcome.” “But I’d like to—” “Now, to the business at hand.” Nerys held up her wide palm to keep Sarit from saying any more. “Birthdays come but once a year, and I’m here to grant yer wishes.” Sarit suddenly forgot about being lost. “I get wishes?” “Three’s the customary number, so before ye ask, don’t be trying to get more wishes with your wishes. And I’m not keen on making anyone older or younger, so ye can forget that as well. It’s a birthday, dearie, not a life transformation.” Sarit thought a  minute. “Will you show me the way out of the wood? After I’m done wishing, I mean?” Nerys shrugged. A small slug slithered out of her armpit. “I suppose that depends on what ye wish for. Were it me—and this is free advice, mind—I’d wish for a way out.” That hardly seemed fair, but Sarit didn’t have much choice. “Oh, all right. My first wish is to know the way home.” “Follow the stream. It always leads the birthday child home,” said Nerys at once. “Ye might’ve figured that out. That’s one wish gone.” “But you were the one who—” “There is a time limit, dearie.” The sea hag cocked one eye toward the sun, which was sinking steadily toward its dark home. “I’ll dry out if I stay here much longer. And that’s not pretty, I can tell ye.” “Fine,” Sarit said. She seemed to remember that in stories of genies and the like, wishes were often rigged in some way. “I want to make a safe wish. Can you help me do that?” “That’s a tricky thing,” said Nerys. “Ye could wish for great wealth, but mayhap it would come from a loved one who’d die and leave ye all he owns. Ye wouldn’t fancy that, eh?” She clapped her slimy hands. “That’s the fun of wishing, ye see!” “It’s not fun at all,” Sarit muttered. She glanced up at the darkening wood, and gasped. A long, green snake was slithering down the bough just above her head. She sprang up and backed away. “Careful, dearie,” said the sea hag. She bent over and lifted handfuls of water from the stream, which she poured over her neck. “That’s a vipera chartrucious periculous. Deadly. Quick, too. If it strikes, all is lost.” Sarit stood as still as she possibly could. Even her heart stopped in her chest. “What,” she breathed in a tiny whisper, “what should I do, Nerys?” “Only one thing to do. Wish it away.” Sarit didn’t dare whip her head around to glare at the sea hag, but she swiveled her eyes in that direction, and the look in them was a dark one indeed. “You brought it here.” “No one said this was a safe wood. Ye shouldna got yerself lost in it.” The snake wound its way like a curling ribbon down the tree branch toward Sarit, who couldn’t have moved now if she’d tried. Her legs felt encased in concrete. The snake opened its glittery yellow eyes, and its pupils narrowed. It had seen her. And it was only inches from her neck. Its jaws opened. “Okay! I wish the snake would disappear!” Sarit cried finally. With a light crackle, the snake’s body disintegrated. Its scales turned into green coins, which rained onto the forest floor. Sarit picked one of them up. They were luminescent, and quite beautiful. “Worthless, o’course,” Nerys said. “My, but I’m getting dry. One wish left, dearie. Make it a good’un.” Sarit sighed.  The sea hag had tricked her out of two wishes, and how could she be sure the wish she chose as her last would be a safe one? Maybe she was being selfish. Maybe she should wish for ... “No worldwide wishes either,” snapped the sea hag. “Nothing like peace on earth or what have you. Try something simple, but good. A glass o’ kelp wine, fer instance.” Sarit made a face. “Kelp wine!” “Kelp wine it is!” crowed the sea hag, and with a loud pop (and a bit of blue smoke), a crystal goblet appeared on the tree stump. It was filled with a slimy green liquid that smelled worse than the sea hag herself. “There it is, and a fine vintage too!” Nerys said. “Drink up, dearie! It’s your birthday!” Having hung in bravely for some time, Sarit’s politeness now failed her utterly. “That’s it?” she cried. “A glass of kelp wine? You promised me three wishes, you tricked me out of two of them, and all I end up getting is some disgusting sludge that no one but you would ever drink!” The sea hag blinked her bulbous eyes. “My, my, dearie. You do have a temper. Well, if you’re sure you don’t want it—” “Of course I don’t want it!” Sarit was ashamed to feel a few tears welling in her eyes. Maybe it hadn’t been the best birthday ever, but she didn’t want to cry about it. Not in front of Nerys. “All the more for me, then. I must say, that’s poor thanks I get fer something so fine, and for free too.” She sniffed, glancing sideways at Sarit. “’Course, I suppose ye did miss yer birthday dessert. That’s a shame, innit?” It was Sarit’s turn to sniff. She was done talking to the sea hag. She turned toward the stream and started her walk home. “Now, don’t go, dearie. I can’t bear to see a child so sad on her birthday. I s’pose this’d do fer ye, since ye’re a land dweller.” The sea hag waved a froggy hand over the tree stump (she had already downed the wine), and a burst of purple smoke enveloped it. Sarit stopped in her tracks, waiting. Would it be a scorpion? A crocodile? A yawning black pit, waiting to swallow her up? The smoke cleared, and Sarit leaned in close to see what was there. It was small, but quite perfect: Her birthday cupcake. In her favorite flavor. With just the right amount of frosting. And written on the top, in magical sparkles, ran the words: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Sarit! FROM YOUR NOT-QUITE-FRIEND, NERYS (SEA HAG)   And before Sarit could thank her, the sea hag had slipped back into the stream and disappeared with the current. All that remained was the stump, the cupcake, and a curious smell that was already fading on the breeze—a smell like algae gone bad. And Sarit, happy birthday from me (Claire) as well! Here’s hoping your birthday is filled with your very favorite things. available now

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