“Miranda, what did you do?”
Miranda sat, or rather lay, at an odd angle across a shattered chair in the grounds of Yelby Manor. “I only sat for a second,” the young maid said, somewhat confused.
Gretchen the Cook looked on sternly. “Oh, his Lordship will not be pleased. What did you do? What did you do?” Flustered, Gretchen hurried back into the kitchen.
Miranda stood and looked at the imp sitting on the small chair in the centre of the three. The imp, Anjalactacarr, grinned broadly, his small devilish features glowing a brighter red. “Oops.” he said, “there’s still the other chair. You can sit there and we can have tea.”
“I don’t know…” Miranda pondered, as Anjalactacarr conjured a table into view, covered with teas and scones, cakes and biscuits.
“You can’t eat unless you sit…” the smirking imp, eyes widened, tempted.
Miranda walked around the laden table, her eyes fixated on a slice of Victoria sponge with lashings of strawberry jam and thick cream. She positioned herself by the other chair and began to sit.
Anjalactacarr hovered around Miranda, clasping his hands tightly across his chest, his tail swishing excitedly.
From inside the kitchen, Gretchen watched on through the window as Miranda, who was a niece of a friend of a friend of hers and had began working at the Manor that morning, began to lower herself into the second chair. Gretchen tightly closed her eyes.
Anjalactacarr yelped in delight.
🦄
The Unicorn Challenge. To write something (magical) up to 250 words inspired by a photo presented by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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