No one likes to see a fairy cry, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need to sometimes.

Everyone has a spot, a place they can go to be alone and think things through. Some spots are more elaborate than others, some are places found on foot or through meditation, and some of them have to be flown to.

Hers was a balcony of shelf mushrooms, hidden high on a sapling in a thicket of shadows.

Here she flew to hide her tears, frustrations, and her silly, secret hurts. Here was where she made her plans and thought her fairy thoughts. Here was where she grew, where she became, and where she conquered all her fears.