"Saints and Curses"

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The worst part of my job had to be the costume. The tunic and tights were a nauseating shade of neon green. The shoes looked like something a deranged jester would wear. The natty red “elf” hat was trimmed in mangy rabbit fur that upset my allergies. I’d sneezed so much my nose had turned bright red; I looked more like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer than any self-respecting elf. It didn’t help that I was standing in the middle of a particularly tacky Christmas display in a shopping mall, playing carols on my violin while obnoxious kids stuck candy canes in my hair. All in all, quite a horrible holiday job. Still, since I was pretty much a starving artist, emphasis on the starving, I needed the cash. I didn’t notice the funny little people until I took my break after a three hour set. They were standing close to my spot, poking at the decorations with looks of disapproval and bafflement. There were five of them, three men and two women, and none were over five feet tall. They had ruddy cheeks and odd clothes--breeches and full skirts decorated with fine embroidery, the type of stuff I’d imagine high class Medieval peasants might wear. The women had elaborately braided hair, and the men all wore long beards. I was impressed--they must’ve come from a way nicer display than mine.